Harry Potter and the Wizard of Ashenbenford
by Arthur Hansen
Summary: AU Order of the Phoenix, with a twist.
1. A wizard arrives

Harry Potter and the Wizard of Ashenbenford  
  
-  
  
Orel Maresk stared in panic down the halls of the catacombs. Where were Chathy and the rest of the group? Clumping feet were coming closer and closer behind him. He wasn't too terribly sure what the gods forsaken things were, but they could find him through his invisibility far too easily. From their snuffling, it was probably something to do with their keen noses.  
  
Sibilant chanting came from behind him, giving him scant warning to dive to the side. Even so, he was nearly charbroiled by the purple flames.  
  
"To the Abyss with this!" Orel said to himself fervently. It took a moment for him to rummage through his scroll case for a powerful scroll. He leaned up against a blue-ish rock speckled with red flecks. The words of the powerful transportive spell engraved into the paper seemed to catch fire as he read them. Unbeknownst to him, the red flecks of gems caught fire, brighter and brighter as he chanted.  
  
He almost lost his concentration when he finally noticed. With a supreme effort, he finished as he hoped desperately that this wasn't going to explode him spectacularly. With an audible 'pop', he disappeared.  
  
A moment later, he appeared deep within a forest. His arrival was unpleasant as a tree that he appeared within exploded. The built in safeguards of the glamour ejected him from the coexistent location to another area of the forest a mile or so away. He immediately dropped to the ground, smoldering.  
  
"Ow." The young wizard rolled over. With careful prodding from his finger, he determined that most of his ribs were, in fact, intact. He wished he could say the same for his singed skin. "Where am I?" Orel asked himself.  
  
Under the dark trees, nothing seemed to move. Honed senses could feel the subtle flow of natural magics. It made his skin crawl. He forced his fingers to dig out a potion. Luckily, it hadn't broken during his journeys.  
  
The slimy pepper and oil taste made him nearly gag. Horrid stuff, even if it worked wonders. Letting himself just feel better for a second from the healing draught, he contemplated where he could be. Not enough information, he decided.  
  
He bounced to his feet and looked around the area. With a shrug, he started walking.  
  
-  
  
A half an hour later he finally saw what appeared to be a clearing up ahead. He pushed himself on faster, almost flying thanks to the magic within his boots. At the edge of the forest, he pulled up short in surprise. That was a mighty large castle. And it positively reeked of magic, even more so than the forest behind him.  
  
His quick eyes took in a ramshackle cabin near the edge of the woods. Always safer to talk to the commoners than to some noble that absolutely hates a down on his luck wizard. Orel pushed back the hood of his cloak. With a quick rappity-tap of his staff he knocked on the door. He frowned at its large size.  
  
There was no response. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned and walked towards the castle. Within a short time, he had found the entrance to the castle.  
  
Unguarded and unbarred as it was. Quite unusual. Carefully, he opened the door and stepped inside. It was spectacularly furnished. Armor and tapestries were everywhere. It positively reeked of wealth. The young man moved deeper into the castle.  
  
"Mystra's Teats!" Orel cried out softly in sudden surprise. The pictures on the wall had a lifelike images within it. His eyes were looking back and forth like he expected one of the picture frames to suck him into it.  
  
But something else nagged at his attention. It looked a little too cheerful to be steeped in evil magic. Besides, the pictures were snoring.  
  
He was almost entirely tapped out of his magic, having only a few of his apprentice spells left and one magic missile. He reached into his boot to pull out a wand. A crossbow would be of no use here.  
  
He turned to look back at the exit, only to find that stairs filled the area behind him. "Damn-damn-damn-damn-damn," he muttered. A creeping sense of dread enfolded him. With a jerk, he started to walk down the hall. He lifted the hood up over his head and muttered something. With a shimmer, he disappeared.  
  
-  
  
Under the cloak of invisibility, Orel swore loudly as another secret door closed behind him. "What a stupid gods' forsaken- How many secret doors does this damned place have?" He slid down to the floor while leaning against the wall. He was in over his head, that was for sure. No matter how hard he tried, the castle kept moving doors and stairs around. He couldn't find the exit! Even searching around for secret entrances hadn't helped him!  
  
Orel pursed his lips. It was obvious that this was a school of some sort from what he'd seen of a few rooms. There didn't seem to be any people around right now, so perhaps it was a holiday or something. His best bet was to find some out of the way room and camp for the night. Then he'd be able to cast a lightning bolt to escape this silly place after resting. The windows didn't look that sturdy.  
  
The gargoyle across the hall from him spun up and out of the alcove, opening the secret passageway again. Orel scrambled to his feet. Of course, he could try following someone-  
  
"Stupify!" Albus Dumbledore shouted as he dashed into sight down the little spiral stair; hitting the hidden wizard quite squarely. The Headmaster looked around and then turned to examine the figure sprawled on the floor.  
  
"Give me just a moment to remove his cloak. Ah, much better!" Dumbledore looked the travel-worn figure over. "Not much meat on that boy is there?" he asked his non-existent audience. Without further ado, he rummaged around on the person until he pulled out two wands. He quirked an eyebrow at that. "Eneverate!" he exclaimed with a wave of his wand.  
  
The skinny and gangly boy awoke with a start, looking around wildly. He started jabbering while crawling backwards up against the wall.  
  
"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked the bemused boy, holding out the candy.  
  
He didn't understand the reply, but he was heartened to see him take the candy and study it thoroughly. He licked it cautiously and then swallowed it whole.  
  
"Oh, dear. He must not know what it is. Like this!" the ancient wizard said. And with that, he popped the candy in his mouth and started sucking on it.  
  
Orel stared at him for a long moment. Oh, a hard candy. He snickered loudly. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten in hours. He held up a hand to forestall another candy. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a piece of dried venison to chew on.  
  
"I'll need Estimagion's Advanced Charms, I think. I will be taking this ragamuffin to the great hall for lunch!" Dumbledore was as good as his word as he led his impromptu guest down to the great hall. "After all, it is time to eat."  
  
The stranger seemed quite interested and perked up as they entered the room and seeing places set out. He slid his backpack to the ground behind the bench and looked at the ceiling, where it showed the bright and sunny day with an illusion.  
  
A sullen, dark haired man was sitting there at the only other set place. He looked up in surprise.  
  
"Eat up!" the headmaster commanded gently as the food appeared on the table. He noted curiously that the stranger watched them closely to see how they ate, then emulated them almost exactly.  
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore! Something must be done about Peeves! He is absolutely destroying everything!" the ghostly Friar called out loudly and angrily as he came in straight through the main doors.  
  
You couldn't tell who was more surprised when the stranger bolted out of his seat, chanted some words while wiggling his finger and flung bolts of light at the startled ghost, striking it squarely to some damaging effect. The ghost, Professor Snape and the headmaster stood there surprised for just a second as the stranger said something, (it sounded like curses, even if you couldn't understand his words) and then frantically pulled out a scroll from his belt and read aloud something that was written on it. A distortion in the area signaled a magical force field that had been conjured.  
  
With a bit of trepidation he stood where he was while fishing in his boots for something.  
  
"My dear friar, I think it would be best if you were to take this up with me at a later time. Perhaps this afternoon?" Dumbledore said as calmly as possible. Wandless magic of a high order!  
  
"He attacked me! He even hurt me!" the ghost cried out.  
  
"You were fairly scary looking as you came in the room, you do realize that? He may have thought that you were going to attack us all!"  
  
"Me? But then, not all ghosts are known for their good hearts. I'm sorry." With that, the ghost turned and left the room.  
  
"Accio Estimagion's Advanced Charms! I just need to refresh my memory." With that a book flew into the room and landed in front the oldest person present and started flipping pages by itself. "Here we go!" He turned suddenly to the young stranger again, stopping in surprise as he noted the defensive position.  
  
"I think he is unsure that it is safe here, Professor Dumbledore," Snape said with a small, almost sinister smile. He was quite used to the headmaster's eccentricities.  
  
"Hmm, yes. Very well, I'll cast the charm on you and then you can talk to him. That'll do! Transiotium Lithellium Forseemia!" he said, casting the spell on his fellow coworker.  
  
"I do not suppose you could have asked me first?" Snape said sardonically.  
  
"A translation spell, I take it?" Orel interrupted quickly.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I'm Orel Maresk. Could you please tell me where I am? I managed to miscast a scroll rather spectacularly and I fear it sent me very far away from my friends."  
  
"This is Hogwarts, the most famous wizarding school in the world! This is Professor Dumbledore here," he said smugly. "I am Professor Severus Snape."  
  
"Hogwarts? Never heard of it. I'm afraid I didn't understand the term 'wizarding' either." But at least they were willing to talk now. He sat back down at the table. He watched in interest as old wizard cast the spell twice more, just to make sure that everyone could understand each other.  
  
"The wizarding world? How can you cast magic and not know about that?" the sinister looking professor exclaimed.  
  
"I'm not really meaning to sound stupid or anything, but that whole phrase really didn't mean a whole lot to me." Orel shoveled a quick bite into his mouth. Delicious!  
  
"The wizarding world refers to society of all wizards and witches, apart from non-magical people, known as Muggles. Due to modern decree, wizards hide themselves from the Muggles so that the witch-burning and attacks that happened centuries ago don't happen again," Snape explained in his best lecturing voice.  
  
"So these Muggles aren't aware that there are wizards? At all?" he managed to ask.  
  
"Indeed! Most things of a magical sort have pulled away from the greater mass of humanity." Dumbledore studied the visitor closely.  
  
Orel paused his eating for a second and concentrated. "It sounds like I've traveled further than I'd imagined. Another continent even."  
  
"More than that, I fear. The Earth has been fairly well explored. All wizards on six of the seven continents would have probably heard of Hogwarts and know of Muggles and the decree from the European Ministry of Magic."  
  
"What about the seventh continent?" Orel asked quickly.  
  
"It is a cold and frozen place, fit for neither man nor beast. No wizarding community exists there." Dumbledore took a slow sip of his mug while seeming to be lost in thought.  
  
Snape stared intently at the young man as he carefully carved into his own meal.  
  
"Another Crystal Sphere then. That is bad... Unless you happen to know some magic that allows traveling between other realities."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't. There are some spells for entering a persons dream, but that would be the closest I would think off the top of my head."  
  
"This... is not good." Orel started to eat some of the excellent food in front of him as he concentrated deeply. It then occurred to ask, "Excuse me, are you the lord of this castle?"  
  
Snape arched an eyebrow at that.  
  
"Heavens no! I am merely the Headmaster." The old man seemed very amused at this.  
  
"Headmaster? Is this a public school?" A germ of an idea was meandering through the boy's head.  
  
"Yes. You are even the age to be attending Hogwarts. Not that I believe you could afford it in the slightest." Ragamuffin, Snape thought to himself.  
  
"I don't care what you think. I doubt that you have anything that you could teach me. I've already finished my apprenticeship months ago!" Orel snapped back. Pompous, overblown windbag.  
  
"You can Apparate?" Dumbledore asked interestedly.  
  
"Apparate? Is that the name of a spell?" the young man asked curiously.  
  
"Yes, the ability to move between two locations instantly."  
  
"Ah, teleportation. I've mastered the weakest of that sort of spells. Useful for the short range, of course."  
  
"Apparate has a great range, mere knowledge of where you are going is usually enough," Professor Snape said snidely.  
  
"Really? How interesting," Orel mused. He instantly came to a decision. This was his most likely way home at this point. "How much would it cost to attend this school?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "Because you are not from these lands, it is quite expensive. Over two hundred and fifty galleons, I'm sorry to say. And that doesn't even include the cost of school supplies."  
  
Orel reached over to his backpack. "Money pouch," he commanded. Instantly a heavy bag pushed itself into his hands. "I have gold Waterdavian florins, but I'm not sure of the weight of a galleon." A thick, heavy gold coin was pushed in front of the headmaster.  
  
"Unbespelled, inert and totally normal gold," Dumbledore murmured to himself. "That is nearly a galleon, so if you have the difference, we'll have a deal."  
  
"Of course." And the young man was as good as his word, depositing the difference in front of him.  
  
"Well, Professor Snape, I'd say that Mr. Maresk has managed to cover this year's fee to enter into Hogwarts. You have proven yourself capable of casting some magic. Here are your wands."  
  
Orel took his wands back. "Why did you take these and not my scrolls, if I may ask? Wands are quite a bit easier to use, but my more powerful magics are on the scrolls."  
  
The professors looked at each other in consternation. "It is much harder to do magic without a wand, is it not?"  
  
The young man looked at them curiously. "There's quite a bit of effort in making a wand, but they're pretty much only useful to cast a particular magic many times at the expense of energies crafted into the wand. Takes a bit of doing too, of course."  
  
"May I examine one of your wands?" Professor Snape asked; truly intrigued for the first time. The boy shrugged and handed him one back. "This is not a normal wand, Professor Dumbledore. This is an item with magic imbued into it of a single sort, if I don't miss my guess."  
  
"Not that I just told you that," Orel cheekily informed him.  
  
"Have a care, student. You'll find yourself in my classroom yet. And I demand the respect that any teacher should be given," Snape said with a curt wave of the wand.  
  
"Please, Severus. Do you have a focal wand, Orel?"  
  
"I have no idea what you are talking about, I'm afraid."  
  
"It looks like he will have to accompany you back to London and Diagon Alley. I have list of books and items that are required for our school. It starts in a mere week or so." Dumbledore looked bemused for a second. "I hope you are fairly quick in learning languages. The spell I cast upon you will only last a few weeks."  
  
"It looks like I have a lot of studying to do."  
  
"Go and clean yourself up. I will not take a ruffian with myself, even if you are a homeless student!" the younger teacher informed.  
  
"A moment, then. Cleiduliuamiaus!" he pronounced the spell while wiggling his finger in a particular way. His clothing started to clean itself with great alacrity. In just a minute, he and it were as clean as could be.  
  
"Come with me, boy. I hope you know how to use a broom, at least." Snape was trying very hard not to boggle. That seemed a very useful spell.  
  
-  
  
Orel hadn't, but he was a very quick learner and agile to boot. It was short trip to a small village. They landed at the edge of the town, which Severus Snape named Hogsmeade.  
  
"Follow me, boy."  
  
"I have a name. Teacher."  
  
"Professor!" Snape said as he whirled around.  
  
"Teacher!"  
  
They glared at each other for a second.  
  
"Very well, Mr. Maresk. This way."  
  
"Of course, Professor Snape." Orel followed him closely, not wishing him to lose him in the small crowd that he was pushing through.  
  
They entered into a tavern, which was vaguely interesting to Orel. It seemed taverns were omni-universal, no matter where you went. This one stank about as bad as the worst dives and back alleys.  
  
Professor Snape nodded to the barkeep. "I'd like to use your fire to access the Floo Network."  
  
The man grinned toothily. "Of course. Try to remember to buy a drink on the way back."  
  
Snape smiled thinly. "It'll be my regular, of course." He walked towards the roaring fireplace while handing some dust to Orel. "You must buy your own Floo Powder for the trip home. Toss the powder into the fire, call out 'The Leaky Cauldron' and then step through the fire. I will go first."  
  
Orel followed him just a moment later, using the strange, greenish powder. As he appeared in front of another fireplace after a disorienting ride, he staggered a bit. "You could have warned me that it's like riding a griffin in a thunderstorm!"  
  
"You should always be ready for the unexpected," Snape said loftily.  
  
Orel worked extra hard to control his temper for just a second. "So all of these people are wizards?"  
  
"Or witches and squibs, of course. I will meet you back here in exactly two hours to take you back to Hogwarts. Do not be late." The thin professor turned without even waiting for a reply.  
  
Orel frowned at his back. "Of course, professor."  
  
-  
  
"Greetings. I am Mr. Ollivander. You are here for a wand?" the ancient looking person asked from behind the counter.  
  
"Yes, please." Orel looked him over curiously. "You are the Mr. Ollivander that wrote 'Crafting Conundrums'?"  
  
The old man looked surprised. "Yes. Not many people are interested in making wands. But I felt it was a good idea to write a good book on exactly how one makes a wand. For future generations, of course."  
  
"I look forward to reading it later." He accepted a wand that was shoved into his hands. "Eh?"  
  
"Just wave it a bit. This is probably not the correct one," the wizened wizard explained.  
  
"Very well," Orel replied. He shrugged and waved the wand experimentally. With a snap-pop he dropped it in a hurry. "Ouch!"  
  
"That's odd. Don't push it so hard. Oak, twelve inches with a dragon string heart," the proprietor cautioned as he scooped up the first wand and handed him a second.  
  
The young man nodded as he just waved the wand. "What type of dragon?" The wand still made his finger tingle. As a matter of course, he only pointed it away, towards the front window. Once bit, twice shy, after all.  
  
"Ridgeback, as you were curious." Ollivander snatched the wand out of his hand, putting a new one in there just as fast. "Birch, ten inches with a sliver of unicorn horn."  
  
Orel waved the wand at the front window again. The results, to say the least were slightly spectacular. Red sparks exploded from the wand and smashed the windows across the street. He dropped it almost immediately.  
  
"Well, I think that one is yours," the shop owner said dryly. "Don't mind the window; I'll fix it in moment."  
  
Orel just blinked. "Why did it do that?"  
  
"You're trying to force too much magic through the wand. It is not safe; the wand can be burned out. And then you will have to do with a replacement that is never as good as your original wand. The wand chooses the user."  
  
"Ah. That almost makes sense." Orel picked the wand up carefully. He pushed as lightly as he could with his magical energy. Crimson sparks again flew from the end in a great gout, but only out to about three feet. "That's going to take quite a bit of training, I think."  
  
"It does. A lifetimes worth. That will be eight galleons and four sickles."  
  
-  
  
Just under two hours later, Professor Snape returned to the same tavern they appeared in. "Where is the broom that I let you use?"  
  
"Right here, of course. Hogwarts' broom!" Orel snapped back as he reached back towards his magical haversack. The broom appeared in his hand instantly. "You can be a truly unpleasant person when you set your mind to it, Professor Snape."  
  
"Mind your tongue, Mr. Maresk. We are going back to the 'The Hog's Head' now." Snape then said the coded destination and disappeared in a puff of green smoke.  
  
"Why don't we go directly to the castle?" Orel mused. Probably not secure enough, now that he thought about it. With a shrug, he followed the teacher.  
  
"Thank you for the drink," Snape was saying as Orel appeared in the fireplace. He walked out without even waiting to see if he followed. With practiced movements, he slipped onto his broom and kicked off into the air.  
  
Orel followed as quickly as possible again. He did not like this professor at all.  
  
Soon they were walking deeper inside of Hogwarts.  
  
"Ah, there you are! Professor Snape, thank you for taking the time to run that errand for me. I need to talk to Orel Maresk about the studies he is going to have to do to get ready for the school year," Dumbledore exclaimed as he appeared rather suddenly.  
  
"Of course. I was able to cut short an unpleasant business." Snape turned and walked off without further ado.  
  
Dumbledore looked down at his newest student. "So, did you find all of the books you needed?"  
  
"Yes, and some more besides. I figured that I would need to get the previous years books also. That makes some pretty hefty reading that I have to do in the short time available."  
  
"Yes. Very forward thinking of you! This will be your room, until you are sorted into one of the Houses."  
  
"Houses?"  
  
"Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."  
  
Orel looked up for a moment. "Interesting names, at least."  
  
"And also the fact that you can not, whatever you do, let people become aware of your wandless magical casting ability."  
  
"Say that again?"  
  
-  
  
Harry sat in the coach watching the scenery while Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood chatting amicably as they waited for the trip to Hogwarts on the Express. Neville Longbottom was looking at his new plant with curiosity.  
  
"This seat isn't taken, is it?" a boy asked. He looked to be about the same age as Harry, near enough. A bit shorter and even skinnier, if that seemed possible. He was wearing comfortable traveling clothes and an expensive looking cloak. He dumped his well-worn backpack into the luggage rack.  
  
Luna looked at him curiously. "I don't know you, either. What house are you in?"  
  
Orel nodded in acknowledgement. "None, yet. I am just starting this year. Interesting."  
  
"Really? Where did you go to school?" Ginny asked curiously.  
  
"I studied under my old master near the orphanage in Ashenbenford."  
  
Luna looked a bit nonplussed. She scratched the side of her forehead. "I've never heard of that place."  
  
"I doubt you would." To distract that line of thinking, he said, "I'm Orel Maresk."  
  
"Ginny Weasley!" the red-haired girl exclaimed.  
  
"Luna Lovegood," the spacey, blonde-haired girl informed.  
  
"Harry Potter."  
  
"No one, really."  
  
"Really, Neville! That's twice in one day. Ign- Don't ignore him, this is Neville Longbottom," Ginny exclaimed.  
  
"Good to meet you all. So what is this school like?" he asked them.  
  
Harry blinked in surprise at not getting stared at, and then smiled.  
  
"Oh, it's pretty good. Professor Snape is always horrible, of course."  
  
"We've met. He is very infuriating," Orel said with a cold voice. He shook his head for a second. "I think I much prefer the Floo Powder method of traveling. This over-grown Dwarven contraption doesn't look at all safe. Even if it is faster than all but the fastest horses."  
  
The other students looked at each other oddly. This new fellow was quite... different.  
  
"You've never seen a train before?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, not like this. I wonder what makes it go? It has to be some more of that Muggle science stuff, think." He reached over to his small pack. "Spellbook Primus." A large and slightly battered leather-bound book appeared in his hands, as the pack seemed to spit it out at him.  
  
Neville looked quite interested in the pack more than the overly grown book. "Say, that's a really neat bag! Where did you get it?"  
  
"A wizard's shop of curios. It's fairly common, if a trifle expensive. About the cost of a really expensive suit of armor for a wealthy lord."  
  
"I heard that Malfoy has a chest that is larger on the inside, like that!" Ginny exclaimed.  
  
A pained expression appeared on Harry's face. "I've seen one before. It looked like a small room. You aren't carrying any bodies in there, are you?"  
  
"It doesn't carry that much!" Orel snapped. He turned to his book pointedly, ending the conversation.  
  
-  
  
Ron and Hermione returned, cramming themselves in the compartment. They launched into a discussion with their friends several things that really didn't mean a lot to Orel, at least not yet. The red-haired prefect slipped in between Harry and Orel, barely taking the time mouth an apology.  
  
Orel looked up from his book in consternation to see Luna laughing hysterically from something the red-haired prefect had just said.  
  
"Baboons... backs!" she howled.  
  
Orel shrugged. "I must have missed that."  
  
Harry nodded and grinned at him.  
  
Hermione looked over and really registered the new person. "Oh, terribly sorry. I'm Hermione Granger!"  
  
"Orel Maresk." He kept skimming his book, not really reading.  
  
"Oh? What is that?" the smartest Gryffindor asked.  
  
"Just my personal spell book. Well, the first one."  
  
Harry and Ginny chimed in simultaneously. "Personal?"  
  
"Er, yes. I'm not really supposed to talk about it much."  
  
Luna had finally quit laughing when Harry asked to borrow her magazine. His face showed absolute confusion and then consternation. At least until the door slammed open.  
  
"Well, well! It's Harry Potter! How's it feel to be second best to Ron Weasley?" a smartly dressed and coifed blond-haired boy said snidely. "As you can obviously see, I made prefect! It was to be expected, of course."  
  
"You are still a git! That hasn't changed anything."  
  
"Ah! Enemy reacquaintancing! Interesting!" Orel said brightly.  
  
"Who are you?" the lead Slytherin asked. His cronies hung out behind him, grinning vapishly.  
  
"Orel Maresk. Pleased to meet you." The boy's crystal blue eyes stared at the other boy menacingly from under his ornate circlet, the only thing holding back his unruly hair.  
  
"Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prefect." He sniffed a bit. "Probably a mud-blood to boot."  
  
"And what, pray Mystra, is a 'mud-blood'?" the unknowingly insulted boy asked curiously.  
  
Hermione had become absolutely livid. "Draco! I can't believe you said that! A Prefect is supposed to set a good example!"  
  
"Would someone please explain?" It was not really a question.  
  
Ron finally responded as Draco smirked, "It means your parents weren't Wizards, they were Muggle-born."  
  
"Oh? I have no idea about my father. My mother was definitely not magical, of course. She had other... talents." Orel's eyes seemed to become much darker and more dangerous.  
  
"Ah! You'll end up in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Definitely not Slytherin."  
  
Orel smiled pleasantly. "I would rather die than end up in Slytherin. Even if I wasn't a 'mud-blood'."  
  
"You are an odd fellow, Orel. Mud-bloods had better watch their backs these days. Something bad... might happen." Draco turned around to walk away, his cronies following him while they shot menacing glares back.  
  
"Oh, Draco?" Orel waited until Draco turned around. "It's really stupid to insult someone so. And then turn your back on them."  
  
The rest of the compartment gasped in surprise or admiration.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes in anger. "We'll see, Mud-blood."  
  
Harry finally asked, "You aren't really thinking of doing anything to him, are you?"  
  
The newcomer turned to look at him with appraising eyes. "If he starts anything, I'll finish it."  
  
The silence was quite uncomfortable, rain lashing against the train in muted torrents. Nothing further was said as the train continued, until everyone changed into their school robes. Ron and Hermione begged off to do their Prefect duties, leaving their pets with their friends and going off to help everyone off the train.  
  
Harry seemed quite surprised at something about the carriages. Orel looked over, seeing the undead looking creatures. Ron had shown back up, breathless and asking about his owl.  
  
"Ron, do you see something... odd about the carriages?" Harry asked, worriedly.  
  
"What? It's the same carriages as always, of course."  
  
"I mean, pulling them?" Harry replied to Ron.  
  
"You mean the undead looking lizard-horses with demonic wings?" Orel asked conversationally. He wondered what spells would be required to create such a creature. It looked terribly evil and fierce. Quite intriguing, actually.  
  
"Yes... What, you see them too?" Harry blurted out gratefully.  
  
Ron just looked at them as if they'd gone insane. "You two are daft, there's nothing there!" Ron exclaimed.  
  
"No, I can see them too," Luna said dreamily. "They've always been there. But not everyone can see them."  
  
Orel looked interested at that. "Naturally invisible to most people? How strange."  
  
"You guys are freaking me out!" Ron said. If it had been just Luna and maybe Harry, he could have ignored it. But Orel seemed to be describing what Harry thought he was seeing.  
  
Harry just shrugged, but his mind was much more at ease as they entered the carriage. It started raining again as the carriages plodded towards the mystical castle. During the shuffle when entering Hogwarts, Harry ended up with his two best friends at their house's table, but had lost Orel somewhere. Harry thought about it for a second and then realized that, of course, the new boy would have to be sorted into a house.  
  
The trio listened with a bit of morbid curiosity as the hat jumped into its song. It was much more foreboding, warning that the school must band together to survive. Professor McGonagall started to list of the names.  
  
With a quirky grin, Harry noted that most people were only keeping an ear open for the first year's students. Only a few people noted the "Maresk, Orel" that was in the middle. And most just ignored him anyways. That hat sat much more normally on his head than the smaller students.  
  
Almost everyone turned suddenly when the hat finally said, hoarsely said, "Gryffindor. Only Gryffindor." Even the professors looked startled at the hat that would always cheerfully shout which house the wearer would join barely said it loud enough to hear.  
  
Orel walked over to sit next to Ron, Hermione and Harry to belated applause. Soon the rest of the first years were sorted. A scrumptious meal appeared in front of them, which Ron immediately tried to stuff down his throat all at once. Orel ignored the daft-seeming (and that is all Orel would let himself think in that matter, for he knew better) headmaster start some announcements, only to be interrupted by the toad-like woman sitting next to him.  
  
He frowned as he tried to discern the meeting behind the lengthy (and boring) speech she rambled into. He listened carefully as Hermione explained how she thought the Ministry of Magic was going to be interfering with the classes here, before she and Ron had to run off to help the first years to the common room.  
  
"Why such a long face, Harry?" Orel asked as they walked towards the Gryffindor common room.  
  
"It's just... that Umbridge woman is going to be trouble. I can feel it." Harry looked even more worried.  
  
"What is Defense Against the Dark Arts, any ways?" the newer student asked.  
  
"It's where you learn to fight with magic, of course. I heard that it used to be called the Dark Arts, long ago."  
  
"Hmm. Interesting."  
  
"Interesting?" Harry asked, very confused.  
  
"I wonder if they changed more than the name of the course?" Orel mused to himself.  
  
Neville caught up to them and informed them of the Gryffindor password, the name of his rare plant that he had brought to school 'Mimbulus mimbletonia.' They soon settled into their dorm room, which suspiciously fit the new bed without being crowded. At least to the other boys, Orel didn't know better.  
  
Orel listened quietly to Harry and another of the dorm-mates, Seamus, get into a row about Harry's mental well being and the fact that Seamus had almost not been allowed back to Hogwarts.  
  
The stranger in their midst listened closely as they argued back and forth vehemently, until Neville actually seemed to calm it down with his simple declaration that if the headmaster thought that 'You-Know-Who' was back, then that was good enough for him and his grandmother.  
  
Orel laid down for a little while in thought and then pulled out his books to study the different magical theories.  
  
-  
  
That next morning, after the incredibly boring class of history being taught, by all things, a ghost, they migrated down to dungeon for their next class.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Maresk. You've been studying up on potions, have you?" Professor Snape asked coldly as he entered his classroom. The other students looked askance at the new Gryffindor who seemed to have already upset the potions- master.  
  
"Yes, Sir." Orel kept his temper below the surface of his expression. He thought he felt something touch his mind for a moment.  
  
"We shall see how well you do." Snape reiterated to the class how important this year was, again. As had the previous teacher, of course. OWLS seemed to be very important, for some reason.  
  
The lesson was grueling, each student nervously following the directions as exactly as possible. Snape seemed to take great delight in showing several students their errors. The worst offenders in his eyes seemed to be Potter, Longbottom and Maresk. Only Hermione had successfully brewed the potion to his exact specifications.  
  
"I had thought you were a bright person, Mr. Maresk. But you seemed to have failed as abysmally as Mr. Longbottom!" the potions teacher said scathingly, pointing at the blue-tinged potion that was bubbling ominously.  
  
"Actually, Professor Snape, I am quite satisfied with my potion," Orel replied as calmly as possible.  
  
Everyone, including the professor looked slightly shocked at that. "You are satisfied with that execrable excuse for a draught?"  
  
The Dalelander just smirked. "For my first potion, it was adequate. Professor."  
  
"You had never brewed a potion before?" the distraught teacher managed to ask. The idea that Orel had not ever brewed a potion before seemed to stun him.  
  
"No, not really. I had brewed some inks for other, magical processes. But never a potion. The different books that I read do illustrate some remarkable processes. I look forward to learning quite a bit more."  
  
Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Very well. We'll see how adequate your knowledge really is. I expect you to be quite thorough in your dissertation on Moonstones and their uses in potions."  
  
-  
  
"Greetings students! I have been following your fates over the school holiday and I'm pleased to see that my predictions of you all safely returning were born out!" The owlish looking teacher seemed pleased to see them all, until her gaze fell on Orel. "I had hoped that this new darkness that I saw in your form would not arrive, however. I had not expected to see the Sorting Hat put you in that house." She seemed not to be surprised to see the newest fifth-year Gryffindor in the least.  
  
Orel seemed totally unfazed by the greeting and nodded. "Orel Maresk."  
  
"I am Professor Trelawney. You will pardon me if I do not welcome you to my classroom."  
  
"I will try to not intrude too much into your aura. I'm sure it must discomfit you."  
  
The class blinked at that. They had a slightly creepy feeling that they were missing about half of this conversation. And not in a good way.  
  
Trelawney seemed satisfied with that. "I think we will be able to manage that." The class proceeded normally until the students went up to pick up their books to interpret their dreams.  
  
Orel had taken his book and pulled out his natty quill. After a moment of thought, he raised his hand. "Excuse me, Professor."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Maresk?" the professor asked, suddenly apprehensive.  
  
"I've noticed that you haven't included any instructions for any spells. Is that normal?"  
  
Several of the other students snickered. Spell casting in divination? How daft could you be?  
  
"The all-seeing eye is not something that you can cast a mere spell to unlock!" Trelawney said primly.  
  
The boy looked momentarily confused. "So you are expecting us to develop into seers without any magical benefit? Surely the basics of divination magic are taught in this class?"  
  
Now several of the students, including Ron and Harry, were looking unsettled.  
  
"And what spells do you expect me to teach you?" she replied scathingly.  
  
"I would assume that a simple spell to see magical energies would be the first one, of course. It is the most trivial of magics."  
  
The professor looked intrigued. "Please, show us an example. I am not unwilling to expand my students' chances to open their inner eye."  
  
Orel flourished his wand and then pointed it at her. "Occulum! I took the liberty to let the magic affect you, so that you can see for yourself."  
  
Trelawney looked confused for a second. Then her face brightened. "An ingenious spell. Why does the aura around the different magical items glow with different colors?"  
  
"They can denote what effects the item has, of course. It takes skill to successfully decipher what it does. It's very good training for later divinations."  
  
Trelawney suddenly jumped to her feet. "Class, we shall adjust the curriculum to include this interesting example. Mr. Maresk, you shall demonstrate for the class."  
  
"Crikey! Now we're going to be learning spells in Divination too?" Ron complained.  
  
"Actually, Ron... If they are real spells that can help us, I'm not going to complain too much," Harry said bemusedly.  
  
Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'm not too sure."  
  
"It has to be better than this malarkey that she usually has us doing!"  
  
-  
  
After Divination, Ron and Harry met back up with Hermione on their way to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Umbridge had admonished all of the students again about their OWLS, of course. She had then explained the courses curriculum and then had the students start to get into their reading, turning away from them.  
  
After half of the class had stopped reading to see Hermione holding up her hand trying to gain the teacher's attention, Umbridge finally deigned to take notice of her. "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.  
  
"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.  
  
"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."  
  
"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.  
  
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.  
  
"And your name is?"  
  
"Hermione Granger," said the Gryffindor.  
  
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.  
  
"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."  
  
There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.  
  
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"  
  
Orel raised his hand, but was interrupted. "We're not going to use magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.  
  
"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr-?"  
  
"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.  
  
Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Orel.  
  
"Yes, Mister -?" Umbridge waited for Orel Maresk to supply his last name. "Maresk. You wanted to ask something?"  
  
"How are we supposed to properly learn the physical mechanics of defensive spell casting if we are to practice casting no spells?" the intense young man asked.  
  
"This course has been carefully geared towards the theoretical understanding and uses of defensive magic. There is no need, I repeat, no need for actual spell casting within this class. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"  
  
"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"  
  
"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.  
  
Harry thrust his fist in the air. Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, too.  
  
"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to Dean.  
  
"Dean Thomas."  
  
"Well, Mr. Thomas?"  
  
"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."  
  
"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"  
  
"No, but -"  
  
Orel raised his hands again. Professor Umbridge talked over Dean. "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half- breeds."  
  
"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean angrily, "he was the best we ever-"  
  
"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying - you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day -"  
  
"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just -"  
  
"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"  
  
Hermione put up her hand. Professor Umbridge turned away from her.  
  
"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you."  
  
"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads."  
  
"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" trilled Professor Umbridge. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about.  
  
"That is a load of crock!" Orel finally exclaimed.  
  
"I have not called upon you, Mr. Maresk!" the professor sing-songed.  
  
"You are correct, you have not! You have been ignoring me quite well!"  
  
"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said pointedly as she turned away from him, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.  
  
"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"  
  
"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umbridge dismissively."  
  
"Without ever practicing them beforehand?" said Parvati incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"  
  
"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough -"  
  
"Ah! You are pulling a Gurglanian Rebuttal!" Orel exclaimed, his hand still in the air  
  
"A what?" the startled professor asked as she turned back the odd student.  
  
"A Gurglanian Rebuttal is an obvious misdirected statement of fact because you do not wish to expose your real reasons to scrutiny." Orel looked quite smug.  
  
"Are you insinuating what I believe you are?" the woman said very softly.  
  
"That you are lying about the reasons behind-"  
  
Umbridge suddenly bounded to her feet in a livid fury. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your accusation!"  
  
"Because I can see through your incredibly silly logic without even trying? Studying theory is all-good, but practical experience in actual spell casting cannot be understated for real life learning!"  
  
Professor Umbridge looked incensed. "This is school, Mr. Maresk, not the real world," she said softly.  
  
"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?" Harry suddenly interjected with his hand up again.  
  
"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Nothing out there? Then why exactly is the Forbidden Forest, forbidden? From what I've heard from other students there are creatures there that could be cataloged as monsters!" Orel exclaimed.  
  
"This is not the Forbidden Forest. There is no reason for you to have to cast spells in or out of this class to defend yourselves. There is no one who is going to attack children," Professor Umbridge said in a horribly honeyed voice.  
  
"What about someone like say... Lord Voldemort?" asked Harry in a mock thoughtful voice.  
  
Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.  
  
"Another ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."  
  
The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry.  
  
Orel raised his hands. "Excuse me? Who is this Lord Voldemort?"  
  
Now all eyes turned towards him in incredulity, for at least just a moment. Orel decided to shut up for a while.  
  
Umbridge turned back towards Harry. "Now, let me make a few things quite plain."  
  
Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk.  
  
"You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead -"  
  
"He wasn't dead," said Harry angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"  
  
"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-makematters- worse-for-yourself," said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."  
  
"It is NOT a lie!" said Harry. "I saw him, I fought him!"  
  
"Detention, Mr Potter!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, Basics for Beginners."  
  
Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up.  
  
Everyone was staring at Harry; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated.  
  
"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach.  
  
"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, his voice shaking. His expression of outrage was quite visible.  
  
There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face. Orel narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.  
  
"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.  
  
"It was murder," said Harry. He could feel himself shaking. He had hardly spoken to anyone about this, least of all thirty eagerly listening classmates. "Voldemort killed him and you know it."  
  
Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank. For a moment, Harry thought she was going to scream at him. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."  
  
He kicked his chair aside, strode around Ron and Hermione and up to the teacher's desk. He could feel the rest of the class holding its breath. He felt so angry he did not care what happened next.  
  
Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling, hunched over so that Harry could not see what she was writing.  
  
Nobody spoke. After a minute or so, she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it.  
  
"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him.  
  
He took it from her without saying a word, turned on his heel and left the room, not even looking back at Ron and Hermione, slamming the classroom door shut behind him.  
  
"So, I take it, no one is going to tell me who this Lord Voldemort fellow is. Or isn't, as the case may be?" Orel asked flatly.  
  
"I am through discussing this matter now, Mr. Maresk. You may join Mr. Potter in detention tomorrow, after school."  
  
Orel raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing more. The class released their held breath finally and opened their books.  
  
-  
  
Orel specifically caught up to Harry, Ron and Hermione at the supper table in the great hall. Hermione had just slammed her utensils down and stood up to leave.  
  
"Excuse me? Harry, do you mind if I tag along back to our common room?" Orel asked.  
  
Harry kind of grunted as he ignored the people around him. "What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?" Harry asked Hermione when they reached the first-floor landing.  
  
"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened," said Hermione quietly. "You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body... none of us saw what happened in the maze ... we just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you."  
  
"Which is the truth!" said Harry loudly.  
  
"I know it is, Harry, so will you please stop biting my head off?" said Hermione wearily. "It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!"  
  
"Then they are fools," Orel interjected. "Dumbledore puts on an act of pure buffoonery, but he has a very astute mind. Now that I have your attention, may I please get a straight answer about this Voldemort?"  
  
Ron made a vaguely strangled noise. Hermione just looked at him intently.  
  
"Lord Voldemort is a Lord of the Dark Arts that murdered my parents when I was a baby. For some reason, he failed to kill me and his killing curse rebounded on himself. He didn't die, though. And just last year, he managed to regain most of his former power and form." Harry gulped with emotion. For some reason he had little problem with telling this stranger who was not being judgmental. "Cedric... was murdered at his orders while I barely escaped with my life."  
  
"And the government doesn't wish to acknowledge that he is back? Why?" Orel asked.  
  
Hermione looked uncomfortable, but answered. "You-Know-Who hasn't made a move since then, so a lot of people don't want to admit that he might be back."  
  
"And there is nothing but your eye witness account of this, I take it. Other than this dead boy?"  
  
Harry nodded as Hermione said, before the Fat Lady could ask, 'Mimbulus mimbletonia.' The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind it and the four of them scrambled through it.  
  
The common room was almost empty; nearly everyone was still down at dinner. Crookshanks uncoiled himself from an armchair and trotted to meet them, purring loudly, and when Harry, Ron and Hermione took their three favorite chairs at the fireside, he leapt lightly on to Hermione's lap and curled up there like a furry ginger ball.  
  
Orel sat nearby, but kept his ears open as they complained about the new teacher. He was only brought into the conversation when Ron tried to cast the charm that allowed you to see magical auras and failed.  
  
"Hey! Orel! Show us how to do that again!" Harry asked a small smile on his face. "Hermione doesn't seem to think that what you did is possible."  
  
Hermione watched carefully as Orel performed the incantation with the required wand movements. At the end, he touched himself with the wand. "There!" Orel watched in surprise as it only took her two attempts to actually figure out the incantation. It had taken him days to adapt the 'detect magic' spell to wand use!  
  
"How interesting! And you invented that spell?" Hermione asked incredulously.  
  
"As much as I would like to be able to claim that, no. It was one of the first spells I learned from Master Velumus. It is quite ancient in the lands I come from." Orel nodded his head in thought. The old wizard had not wanted him to leave his apprenticeship, but staying had not really been something possible.  
  
"A category of spell dedicated just to divination. An odd, but interesting concept." Hermione was suddenly distracted. "Now they've gone too far! Come on, Ron!"  
  
Ron saw what she was looking at and tried to sink deeper into the chair. "Come on, we can't tell them of for giving the first years treats like-"  
  
"Fainting Fallacies?" Harry finished quietly as the first years surrounding Fred, George and Lee Jordan started to collapse.  
  
Ron almost followed Hermione, but finally settled back as she dealt with the twins with a dire threat of motherly intervention. After she came back, she attempted to do some homework. She then left her badly knitted hats hidden under some parchments and Ron had pulled them from under the papers because of their argument about freeing House Elves.  
  
"They should at least see what they're picking up," he said firmly. "Anyway ..." he rolled up the parchment on which he had written the title of Snape's essay, "there's no point trying to finish this now, I can't do it without Hermione, I haven't got a clue what you're supposed to do with moonstones, have you?" Ron looked over at Harry without any hope.  
  
"Most of what you need is within Rocks of Ages by Hurl Daman," Orel mentioned helpfully. "It has a neat list of uses and specific non-uses."  
  
Harry and Ron looked surprised. "Really?" Harry replied.  
  
Orel nodded. "How about you tell me about these House Elves and I'll give you some pointers on your home work?"  
  
"That seems fair," Ron said excitedly.  
  
-  
  
Orel was very unhappy by the time that his lesson in Transfiguration and Charms were done. The teachers were nattering along about the OWLS still. It appeared to be some sort of competency test that was administered by an external teaching authority.  
  
And his wand-work, while not absolutely pathetic, was not as good as he'd hoped.  
  
Ron had looked incredulously at him. "Crikey! It thought you were nearly as smart as Hermione?"  
  
"She's quite the brain, eh?" Orel replied, thinking to himself that he was most likely smarter. "Truth to tell, my wand work is a touch spotty. I've been attempting to catch up as quickly as possible. It wasn't a thoroughly studied subject in my lands."  
  
Harry just nodded encouragingly as he could. "If that's spotty wand-work, you'll be fine once you get caught up. What sort of magic do they study in Ashenbenford?"  
  
He had only managed to read halfway through his piles of books. If only he hadn't taken that day or two to travel to London to St. Mungos'. But there had been a real hope that they might have had a cure for him. He shook himself out of his stupor a second later. "Oh, lots. Maybe I'll tell you some stories about it later?"  
  
Orel was not too impressed with the care for magical creatures. As he put it, he wasn't going to be raising or handling magical creatures. But, since it was required, he put his mind to it. He was quite intrigued about this Hagrid character that Harry and his friends cared about.  
  
Herbology started off quite interestedly with a Luna Lovegood and Ernie MacMillan both stating their belief and support for Harry and what he'd said. The class was quite like the other with another mention of OWLS again and even more homework. This was nearly as much work as Velumus had ever thrown at him. At least they didn't have to do chores, too.  
  
-  
  
Orel rapped on the door to Umbridge's office.  
  
"Come in, deary." Professor Umbridge sat at her desk. To small tables were laid out with parchments. "Take a seat. You will be writing lines. I wish you to write I must not accuse. Do you understand? You will be using this quill."  
  
Orel replied stiffly. "Of course, Professor Umbridge. Is there anything else?"  
  
"No, that should do it." The professor looked hungrily at the door for just a second. As if she were truly waiting for someone else. Which did occur just a moment later.  
  
As soon a Harry appeared, he understood. She truly wanted him here, where she could punish him. She greeted him and had them start their lines. He glanced over at Harry for a second when he clutched his forehead in seeming pain as Umbridge touched him. They started their lines at her order, both flinching in surprise as the odd pain on the back of their hand.  
  
Harry and Orel exchanged startled glances as they realized that the black quills were using their blood as ink.  
  
"Is there a problem?" Umbridge asked sweetly.  
  
Harry set his jaw stubbornly. "No, Professor Umbridge." He doggedly went back to his lines. Orel nodded mutely as he followed Harry's example.  
  
For hours, they continued their lines. Orel set a part of his mind to continue writing the lines as he went over the different studies, trying to ignore the pain on his hand. He was not always successful, but his powers of concentration were a touch better, he thought to himself.  
  
Finally, the frumpy looking teacher had them come up and examine their hands. She 'tut-tutted' and seemed to be almost gleeful that Harry would be back tomorrow. She put on a sorrowful face at the lack of progress that Orel had made.  
  
They left just a minute later and started to walk back towards their common room. Harry glanced over Orel, noting his taught neck muscles. "Are you all right, Orel? You mustn't let her get you down."  
  
"She has not gotten me down, Harry." Orel's voice was a chill as the arctic wind. "I am controlling my temper so I don't go back there and murder her. This school is the only viable means that I have to get back to my home. She is merely another obstacle in my way."  
  
Harry felt a worried chill creep up his back. "Aren't you angry at her for that torture she put us through?"  
  
"It... irritated me. It was not as much pain as a decent switching; much less the beatings that I endured to learn my magic. She has merely become an enemy, one to be destroyed at my convenience."  
  
They spoke the password and entered the common room, past the portrait of the fat lady.  
  
Harry groaned. "I haven't had time to do any of my homework except for Potions and History. I'm doomed."  
  
"We'll just have to stay up." Orel considered what he'd have to do to do that. Some caffres would be needed, he decided.  
  
"I'm so tired that I'm not sure I'd be able to focus properly," Harry said with a small shake of his head.  
  
"We'll need to get something to keep us awake while we study. Do you know where the kitchens are? I think I could make us something to keep us awake for a few hours."  
  
Harry nodded. "But we'll have to sneak past Filch and his cat."  
  
"I have a cloak of invisibility. I'll retrieve the stimulants then."  
  
Harry grinned. "Actually, I have a cloak, too. Of invisibility, I mean. And a very special map."  
  
Orel was very impressed with the map, while Harry was stunned to discover that the cloak he'd seen him wearing was his invisibility cloak. "But it doesn't look like an invisibility cloak!"  
  
"It requires an activation word. Zarko." And even though his head had not been covered, he disappeared. Harry's invisibility cloak did not require an activation word, but had to cover everything to work correctly. You could tell just by looking at it that it was an invisibility cloak.  
  
Procuring something to keep them awake was a matter of simplicity. The hours of homework, were not. But it was finished and they trotted off to bed incredibly late.  
  
The next morning Ron was bleary eyed as he struggled to write in his dream diary. After their hurried breakfast, they headed to Transfiguration again. Orel wasn't sure why the classes weren't every other day or not, but he figured it had to do with scheduling or something. Harry and himself managed passably well with Vanishing the snails, but only barely. Ron had progressed enough to actually make his translucent at least.  
  
The rest of the week passed by quickly, though Orel made it a point to make sure that Harry had some coffee to help keep him awake after his detention. It was nasty tasting and vile, but it seemed to be the only thing that resembled his lands caffres. He would also stay up late, muttering that he would have enough time to sleep in his old age.  
  
Harry stopped at one point to pour himself some more of the vile, black liquid. "Orel, why are you helping me?"  
  
"Umbridge wishes to crush your spirit and destroy your standing within this school. I will not give her the satisfaction of doing so."  
  
Harry's eyes wandered over the names of the different books Orel was reading. "Why are you reading several years worth of transfiguration?"  
  
"I'm not really supposed to say," Orel replied.  
  
"I won't blab, you know that!"  
  
"No, you wouldn't, would you?" he muttered to himself. "The truth of the matter is, the magic from my land is very different from what you do here. I've had to retrain myself from scratch nearly. It is more difficult than I'd expected."  
  
"Different?" Harry prodded.  
  
"There are no focal wands like you use here. The magic here also appears to require a great deal of concentration where you can bypass what is considered normal for your age. I'm barely hanging on by pure determination."  
  
"They do wandless magic where you come from?"  
  
"Of a sort. It usually requires focal items and components, just not a wand. I am doing several avenues of research into cross crystal-sphere travel." Orel sighed. "The only one I've had any success at has been ethereal transmutation. It isn't unknown where I'm from, but has a very short duration."  
  
"So how is wand-magic different?" Harry asked with curiosity. Anything to say awake.  
  
The Dalelander pursed his lips in thought. "A focal wand allows me much greater variety in my spell casting. It also makes it much easier. It's going to be revolutionary in the lands I come from." Much like the sorcerers of my land, but with the ability to actually learn spells, Orel mused to himself.  
  
-  
  
"Good morning, Harry," Orel said from his chair by the fireplace. It was a splendid morning and the first weekend. Orel was still getting used to a week that was only seven days long.  
  
"Good morning. Still studying?" Harry asked as he pulled out his quill to write a letter to his Godfather.  
  
"Yes. I think I finished that spell, I just need to test it out some time," Orel replied with a yawn.  
  
"Did you get any sleep?"  
  
"A few hours. I can rest when I dead."  
  
Harry laughed for a second, until he realized that Orel seemed to be very serious about that. "Er, um... yes." Harry carefully scribbled out his letter and then stood.  
  
Orel looked up. "Where are you headed?"  
  
"The Owlrey. I've a letter to send and that's where I keep Hedwig, my pet owl." Harry thought about it a second. "You've got a pet toad, don't you? Neville mentioned it to me."  
  
"Ah, yes. Sprocket." Orel reached into his very small pouch and pulled out his familiar, who was definitely larger than the pocket. "I really don't let him out much. He's bound to me in a rather special way. He's not just a pet, really." Sprocket just sat there, puffing himself up. Orel suddenly started making the oddest, almost toad-like sounds. Sprocket seemed to respond for a second and then held his mouth open to receive a few bugs from a pouch. Orel stood up to follow Harry.  
  
Harry smirked. "I hadn't heard of a Parseltongue for toads."  
  
"Parseltongue?"  
  
"I can speak to snakes, which is called Parseltongue. It makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, but it's had its uses."  
  
Orel smiled fondly at his little toad. "No, I don't speak toad. It's a special property of the magics I cast on Sprocket to make him into a magical beast. He and I can understand each other pretty well. He's not terribly smart yet, but he becomes smarter as I become more powerful."  
  
"I wonder if I could learn to do that with Hedwig?" Harry mused.  
  
"I don't see why not. I'm sure that Ron and Hermione would not want to be left out, too!" Orel grinned wickedly.  
  
Harry grinned at that too. "Just about inseparable, we are." He opened the doorway from the Gryffindor common room. Just out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a flicker of ghostly white, but there was nothing there when he turned to look. "Off we go."  
  
They had just walked past a bust of Paracelsus when it suddenly flew at them, causing them to duck.  
  
"Peeves!" Harry shouted. The pernicious poltergeist cackled merrily.  
  
Orel sniffed. "Stupid ghost. Why don't you go bother someone who cares? Oh, I forgot! No one cares about a prat like you!"  
  
"Why you!" Peeves suddenly cried out in anger. He grinned suddenly and then flew at the startled boy, ripping off his ornate circlet. "Princesses shouldn't talk unless talked to!"  
  
"You dratted poltergeist! That's an expensive magical item! Etherismugato!" Orel shouted as he finished waving his wand in a complicated manner. He suddenly took the hue and transparency of the ghost he was looking at. Peeves looked quite startled. "I'll meet up with you later, Harry! I'm going to teach this pest not to mess with me!" he shouted as he charged right after the surprised ghost, who dived right through a wall, the circlet clattering to the ground behind him. Orel dove right after him, as insubstantial as Peeves.  
  
Harry walked over and picked up the circlet. "Hmm. I wonder what it does? Better keep it safe," Harry muttered as he picked up the circlet. He slipped it into his pocket and continued his walk upstairs to the owlrey, passing a suspicious looking Mrs. Norris.  
  
"Ah, there you are!" Orel shouted as he spotted the poltergeist as he rounded a corner. He may be ethereal, but that didn't mean he could see through walls. "Staff!" he shouted for his magic backpack to retrieve for him.  
  
Peeves looked like he was starting to become scared. He passed a few people, startling Cho as she exited the Ravenclaw common room. She was even more startled as she saw what looked like a ghostly student chasing the errant spirit right through the wall, swinging a quarter staff at him.  
  
"Er, I hope Peeves didn't kill him. Or something," she muttered to herself. Wasn't that the new fifth year Gryffindor? She smiled to herself. She could ask Harry, couldn't she? That would give her a good excuse to talk to Harry!  
  
Cries from the girls' dorm, then the boys' dorm, of 'Peeves!' could be heard drifting from the closing portal. She could hear a distinct 'Sorry!' interspersed by Peeves cackling.  
  
Orel finally cornered peeves downstairs in the dungeons. He lightly smacked the ghost to punctuate important phrases. "You... will never... steal... my things... again! Do... you... understand?"  
  
Peeves started nodding frantically.  
  
"Good. Then we don't have a problem."  
  
"You hurt Peeves!" the ghost whined.  
  
"Pain is a good teacher, isn't it?"  
  
"You're not going to stop Peeves from his pranks, are you?" the poltergeist asked worriedly.  
  
Orel rolled his eyes. "I couldn't care less what you do, normally. Just leave me out of it." He slipped the quarter-staff back into his backpack. "Now, this should be wearing off now. Ah!" Orel smiled for just a second as he rematerializing , until vertigo started to assail him.  
  
"No... not now," he gasped. His legs buckled as he collapsed, his head bashing against the wall as he collapsed. Peeves looked on in astonishment as the student fell over in a twitching pile of thrashing limbs. Blood started to pool from his scratched face.  
  
-  
  
Orel awoke to a world that was spinning. The smells of pungent potions and ointments filled his noise. He noted, dimly, that he seemed to be tied down.  
  
"Well, he doesn't seem to be dead, Professor McGonagall," a snappish voice said.  
  
"Yes, I'd say that the rumors that he'd died and chased Peeves around as a ghost do seem to be a bit exaggerated. How are you this morning, Mr. Maresk?" the professor asked.  
  
"I've felt better." Orel could finally open his eyes and focus on the Gryffindor head of house. "Why am I tied up?"  
  
"You were thrashing very severely. It was necessary to keep you from hurting yourself. Finite Incantium!" she cried out, making the ropes that were tying him up disappear. "What was the cause of this? Some prank? A potion gone bad?"  
  
"No. I'm dying."  
  
"I am sorry? Did you just say, you were dying?" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed with a startled voice.  
  
"It's all right. I've been busy dying for years." Orel managed a grin that looked absolutely ghastly on his pallid features. "I've got a defect in my flesh that is slowly killing me. It causes these fits every few weeks. I'll be better in a few hours."  
  
"You must go to St. Mungo's immediately! I'm sure that-"  
  
"-they have absolutely no idea what do to save me," Orel interrupted quietly. "I already tried that, once I discovered that you had such a prestigious hospital. Just before the start of the year. That's why I took the train with all of the other students. St. Mungo's suggested that Muggle science may know something more, but that they doubted a cure could be had." Orel managed to sit up. "I have some more research to do. Sorry to be a fuss."  
  
"But-" Professor McGonagall exclaimed.  
  
"Sorry, I've a cure to find. And I can't depend on anyone else to find it." Orel spotted his pack and extracted his walking stick. Leaning heavily on it, he started to leave the room.  
  
"So brave," Pomfrey said quietly.  
  
"That is what the Sorting Hat meant, then. Indeed, so brave. I will tell the headmaster immediately. I expect you to try and help too, Poppy."  
  
"Of course, Minervia. I couldn't do any less."  
  
-  
  
"Hey! Orel! Over here!" Ron called out from the table. "Breakfast is almost over. Blimey! Are you alright?"  
  
Harry and Hermione looked up at that. Orel did seem to be leaning on his quarter-staff heavily, his face was scratched, though scabbed over.  
  
"Are you well?" Hermione asked worriedly.  
  
Orel nodded as he sat down and started to fill his plate. "I've been better. Let me grab some food right off." He managed to avoid their questioning eyes for a few minutes as he ate his breakfast.  
  
"What happened?" Harry asked quietly.  
  
"I had one of my fits. I'll be better later."  
  
"Fits?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Look, I'm sick and I sometimes have these fits where I fall down twitching. If you find me, just keep me from hurting myself and I'll be fine later." Orel still wouldn't meet their eyes. "You probably think I'm weak or something pathetic now. But I won't let it win. I will find a cure."  
  
"Right! If you need any help, I'll be more than happy to do some research! Hogwarts has one of the best libraries in the world!"  
  
"Er... sure." Orel looked surprised at that exclamation from Hermione.  
  
"And we'll watch out for you too!" Ron enthused.  
  
-  
  
Orel looked up from his books to see Harry, Hermione and Ron in a tense conversation over in front of the fire of the Gryffindor common room. It had been a long Sunday for those two, as they had a whole week of homework to catch up on. He had given them a few pointers to help outh. "What's up?" he asked as best as possible. Dumbledore's translation spell was beginning to wear down.  
  
"Nothing much. Just my brother the prat, being a prat," Ron said venomously.  
  
Orel just quirked his head in question.  
  
Ron glanced over to Harry, looking for some sort of response. Harry finally nodded, even as the cinnamon haired girl looked on thoughtfully.  
  
"It's about Harry, again. The Daily Prophet has been spreading some very nasty rumors around about him. My brother wrote me to tell me to steer clear of my best friend and to keep my nose clean, like a good little Prefect!" The red-haired boy almost shouted the last bit.  
  
"That same thing Umbridge mention?" Orel asked. "Mentioned?" he corrected himself.  
  
"Yes, the Ministry of Magic doesn't seem to want to believe that You-Know- Who is back," Hermione explained as she paced slowly behind to two boys.  
  
"Say that again?" Orel looked confused.  
  
"Voldemort, self-styled Lord of the Dark Arts," Harry expounded.  
  
"Why did you say, 'You-Know-Who'?"  
  
Hermione blushed. "Saying his name is supposed to let him hear you and what you are saying. Bringing his wrath upon you. It's silly, I know. Dumbledore says it just gives him the power of fear over us."  
  
Orel leaned back in his seat. "Ah. Makes sense, now. Lord Voldemort."  
  
Hermione tried not to flinch. "And that's not even his real name."  
  
"It isn't?"  
  
"No, his real name is Tom Riddle. He's a half-blood that hates Muggles." Harry just shook his head at that.  
  
"But pure-bloods follow him? Odd." The Dalelander rolled up the scroll he was working on and closed his books. "Finished?"  
  
Harry and Ron nodded. "We were just going over it."  
  
Hermione looked slightly worried and then flustered. "I could double check your work. Like always!"  
  
"Would you? I think it's mostly right. I did most of the research Orel told me," Ron explained to Hermione.  
  
A disapproving frown appeared on the bushy-haired girl. "You didn't copy from him, did you?"  
  
Orel just snorted in amusement. Ron shook his head frantically. "No way! He's meaner than you are. All he'd do is just tell us the right book to look into."  
  
Harry stood up and stretched. He sort of slouched while putting his hands in his pockets. Suddenly, his expression changed to surprise. "Hey, Orel! What's so important about this band of yours?" he asked as he pulled out the silvery headband.  
  
"Ah! My Isuriam! I was about to start posting notes!" Orel exclaimed happily. He took it back and immediately slapped it back on.  
  
"It's just a circlet, isn't it?" Hermione asked; puzzled by the strange word he used for it.  
  
Orel thought for a second. "No more than an invisibility cloak is just a cloak."  
  
"Magic then? What does it do?" Harry asked, quite curious.  
  
"It is a distiller... no, enhancer of mind. Of the mind," Orel corrected himself.  
  
Hermione gulped. "It enhances you mind? That's impossible! No such thing exists!"  
  
"You can cast magic and you say things are impossible?" the Dalelander asked incredulously.  
  
"Some things are impossible."  
  
"Like?" he asked.  
  
"Like Apparating within Hogwarts! Blocking the Killing Curse!" the girl genius stated haughtily.  
  
"Freggatio!" Orel snapped out while wiggling his fingers, disappearing before their eyes with a pop. "I'm behind you. Hogwarts is warded specifically against one teleportative spell. And we already know that something can block the Killing Curse. Harry survived it."  
  
Hermione gaped like a fish for a moment. "I still don't believe you."  
  
"Fine. You wear it for a while." He tossed her the circlet suddenly. With that, he threw himself into a chair. He happened to be staring right into the fire when a face appeared within it. "Mystra's Teats!" he cried out, snapping his wand out to point it at the face.  
  
The other three were a bit slower, but still had their wands out in a flash. "Sirius!" Harry exclaimed happily, as he put his wand back into his pocket.  
  
"Sirius? As in Sirius Black?" the Dalelander asked stupidly. He was mentally slapping himself for sounding so idiotic.  
  
"Yes. I assume you trust him, Harry?" the face from the billowing fire asked.  
  
"Er, yes." Harry suddenly realized he didn't really know how well he really knew Orel.  
  
"He already has one of my secrets. I think I can be trusted with one of his," the foreigner said with an overly casual drawl.  
  
"Interesting. Well, then. Harry, you wrote to me about your scar?" Sirius asked.  
  
"You wrote him? Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I forget!" Harry replied.  
  
Sirius and Harry went over what had happened in Umbridge's detention, determining to the best of Sirius's knowledge that no, Umbridge really was not a Death Eater. The fact that she hated part-humans was quite surprising, when it was revealed. Orel played with the tips of his ears just a bit. He had always suspected that he had a bit of Elven blood in him, but not even enough to earn him the epitaph of 'half-elf.'  
  
They were all astonished to discover that Umbridge was only following Fudge's orders to make sure that Harry and his classmates weren't trained in combat. Orel's smile became vicious at that. She was a fool if she thought that she was going to stop him from learning combat magics.  
  
He listened for a moment as the tensions between Harry and this Sirius became greater. It seemed they were close, somehow. But his mind was turning to other things.  
  
"Orel?" Ron said as he poked him in the shoulder.  
  
The smaller boy shook his head. "Yes?"  
  
"What's this secret you shared with Harry?" It was obvious that the redhead was terribly curious.  
  
Orel looked between Hermione and Ron, both showing their curiosity. He sighed. "I'm not supposed to say. But you'll probably nag me until you learn." He spoke over their objections, "From the lands I come from, they don't have wands like you do. They do what you term wandless magic all the time. It's not easy. A focal wand is amazingly simpler and more powerful. But I can cast magic without it. Like the dimension door I cast earlier."  
  
Hermione suddenly gaped as she remembered that scene more closely. "You didn't use a wand then, did you?" She suddenly reached into her pocket and pulled out the headband. She tied it onto her head. She felt something change within her. She pulled out her notes and read for a moment as the rest watched her curiously. "It works! I... I can't believe it! How?"  
  
"Spells to enhance warriors and wizards are very common where I come from. Wizards from my world make more than swords and armor; they make belts that can make a strong warrior stronger than weak giants, gloves that make rogues incredibly dexterous. And headbands that enhance the intellect and spells a bit. But they only enhance what is already there. If someone was too dumb to cast spells before wearing it, they can't suddenly learn how to after putting it on."  
  
"Wicked! Orel, you have to let me use it for my OWLs!" Ron exclaimed happily.  
  
Hermione interrupted Orel crossly with, "Ron! Don't you know that cheating on an exam can get you expelled? You are supposed to setting an example as a Prefect! Not cheating!"  
  
Orel blinked. "It's considered cheating?" What an odd thought.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth while she thought for a moment then snapped it close. She scrunched her eyebrows in deeper cogitation. "I'm pretty sure that it is. The only reason that Orel isn't in trouble already is that no one realizes he has his headband." With that, she stood up. "Well, I'm off to bed now."  
  
Orel gave her an odd look. "May I have my headband back then?"  
  
Harry just started laughing at Hermione's blushing face. The girl had the presence to look abashed as she handed it over.  
  
-  
  
The next morning started with the startling article in the Wizarding newspaper about the new position that Umbridge had managed to get Fudge to pass into law. The Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three effectively made her into overseer and spy for the Ministry of Magic.  
  
All of the students were quite excited about the news. It seemed things were heating up.  
  
But first, they had to survive potions! Snape was in a particularly bad mood when he arrived. After a moment it became painfully obvious why, as Orel looked over his graded paper. It had managed an acceptable. He happened to note from Harry's paper, he was sitting behind him, that he too had an acceptable score.  
  
Orel smiled sunnily up the professor, much to the teacher's chagrin. The professor seemed to push them even harder.  
  
It wasn't until afternoon, when the Fifth Year Gryffindors trudged up to their Divination class that they actually ran into Umbridge. Trelawney had been handing out her dream guide when Umbridge arrived.  
  
"Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney," said Professor Umbridge with her wide smile. "You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?"  
  
Professor Trelawney nodded curtly and, looking very disgruntled, turned her back on Professor Umbridge and continued to give out books.   
  
"We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today," she said in a brave attempt at her usual mystic tones, though her voice shook slightly. "Divide into pairs, please, a nd interpret each other's latest night- time visions with the aid of the Oracle."  
  
Orel just grinned as he watched Harry try to listen into the two professors and their conversation. Trelawney suddenly bustled over to him. "Mr. Orel, have you given any further thoughts about letting us learn about the divination magics of your land?"  
  
Orel blinked. "I'm not a divination specialist. As a matter of fact, most of my spells are really suited to pure combat."  
  
Umbridge seemed to glower at that. "And what does a young man like yourself need with combat magic?" She huffed to herself in vexation.  
  
"I am an adventuring wizard, living by my wits and power. Undead and bandits rule the untamed wilderness of my world. But there lies true power and secrets, hidden it dungeon and ruin." Orel gave her a haughty look.  
  
The toad-like professor seemed to take umbrage at that. In a sickly-sweet voice, she asked, "Well, why don't you show us you most powerful divination spell?"  
  
The class blinked, feeling the ways of distaste that flew between them.  
  
Orel smiled widely. "Of course, professor. You don't mind, do you Professor Trelawney?"  
  
The divination's professor just nodded mutely. She looked up at Neville. "You, why don't you come stand over here, away from that window?"  
  
Neville blinked and then followed her orders. That had been odd and abrupt. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
In a voice that only Longbottom could hear, she muttered in a very spaced out voice. "I would not wish to see you struck by lightning."  
  
Neville looked scared, but glanced out the window. There wasn't a storm brewing! What did she mean?  
  
Orel set up a folding silver mirror near the window. It was two feet by four feet and compressed to a heavy package that slid easily into the marvelous backpack of his. As Harry watched carefully, he noted that Orel only seemed to use his wand to cast a spell, but actually cast it with his free right hand. His chanting seemed to last forever.  
  
After five minutes, the class began to stir. Where was the magic? After twenty minutes, they were bored and chatting among themselves, while the two professors started to have a heated discussion.  
  
"Orel Maresk, are you finished yet?" Professor Umbridge asked too sweetly.  
  
The young wizard totally ignored her. The professor reached out to shake him from his chanting and gesticulating.  
  
But her hand was stopped by Harry Potter's own. "He's still casting the spell you asked," he said simply.  
  
"He's right! Orel hasn't even missed a single chant!" Ron exclaimed. What was he doing?  
  
The rest of the class muttered. They'd never heard of a spell that took so long! Umbridge just smiled congenially to the class. "Very well, we will let him cast his... spell."  
  
Finally, at the hour mark, Orel finished his spell. Shimmering light sprang from him and into the silver mirror, whose surface turned black and then showed a candle lit room. He put away his wand  
  
Orel's brows were still furrowed in concentration, even as he pulled out a water skin and took a swig. Chanting for over an hour really didn't do wonders for your voice. He smacked his lips. "There! A scrying spell that is showing you a friend of mine! Her name is Chathy...?" He suddenly looked closer at the slightly odd-looking girl sitting next to a lordly man. She was bedecked in a soft white gown with..."...ribbons?"  
  
The young Dalelander's face suddenly went white in shock. Even as the whole room watched, the lord in the mirror become aware of them as they watched, Orel seemed to explode into action. "Srithing Atzsssoriam!" he screamed even as his hands plucked a couple of items from under his robes while his fingers danced.  
  
From his hands smote a mighty lightning bolt, shattering the mirror into molten shards to the screams of the children and teachers. The window behind the mirror shattered outwards into the clear and bright day.  
  
"How dare she? How could she?" the distraught boy screamed in anger, his fists were shaking wildly. His eyes took on a frantic, haunted look, even as he threw himself from the shattered window.  
  
"Umadius Tol Nadeath Kormin Duma!" he screamed, even as his form bulged and flowed in the falling air. In the space of almost a single instance, gone was the boy and in its place fell a reptilian, winged monster. With a scream and a roar, it pulled up from the jagged edges of the castle walls below it. He almost didn't make it, but luckily only clipped his forepaw.  
  
The small, black dragon roared in pain and rage as it swooped across the inner courtyard. Screams could be heard from within the castle and from a class of first years on their brooms on the green.  
  
A moan of pain brought Harry back to the shatter classroom. He moved over to Lavender. It looked like a sliver of silver had landed on her and burned through her robes. He tried to flick it off, but only burned his hand. The Boy-Who-Lived hissed at the pain.  
  
"Crikey!" Ron muttered, shocked and impressed all at the same time and focused on the flying creature. Other students just nodded in shock.  
  
"Mr. Potter? What are you doing?" the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts asked. "Release that girl at once!"  
  
Harry pulled out his wand, ignoring the teacher and then banished the metal, causing the smoldering chunk of silver to fly off of her. "Are you all right?"  
  
"It hurts!" Lavender cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
"Harry, taker her down to the infirmary," Professor Trelawney order.  
  
Harry was so surprised at her acting like a proper teacher he followed her orders instantly. As they walked down the halls, Harry tried to think about what had just happened. He unconsciously patted his distraught house-mate as they walked. "Ribbons? Why did he mention ribbons?" Harry muttered to himself.  
  
Lavender sniffed, but seemed to try and thing about it. "Maybe he fancied her?"  
  
He thought that was a totally stupid idea at first and just about blurted that out when he stopped and thought about it for a second. "You... might be right."  
  
-  
  
The boy-turned-dragon crashed through the trees to land deep within the forest with a mighty crash. The shockingly loud roar it bellowed blew some of the leaves off the tree he was facing. Reptilian eyes stared as the head snapped around like a snake would.  
  
A pixie took off in a frightful flight, screaming. The dragon roared and tried to pursue. The urge to destroy and terrify was overwhelming, but in the end... just hollow. After chasing, anything that moved for only eight minutes, his spell finally collapsed in on itself.  
  
All that was left was a young boy, holding his broken arm and scratched face. His face was blank for a long moment. He tried and tried to avoid remembering that he was just Orel. Silly, small cursed Orel. Sobs overtook him, even as stabbing pain seemed to suck him into shock from his arm.  
  
"Why, Chathy? Why didn't you try to find me?" he cried out between clenched teeth.  
  
She looked so happy.  
  
Something you couldn't have done for her.  
  
Radiant, even with her draconic features emerging. They made her exotic. Something that would make her even more famous as a Minstrel.  
  
And you are just a pathetic, evil little wizard. You're only useful because people like you to blow things up.  
  
She looked so happy.  
  
You don't deserve to be happy.  
  
Rubbing the tears from his eyes, he stood up on his swaying feet. It was obvious that she must have made her choice. It was probably for the better.  
  
He wouldn't be distracted, let anything stand in his way. With terrible determination, he stood up and pulled out his wand with his unhurt hand. He must have left his backpack in the class. His searching eyes soon found what he was wanting, a clue to lead him from these dark woods.  
  
He started walking.  
  
-  
  
"Mr. Maresk, what were you thinking?" Professor McGonagall asked with her trademarked scathing tones.  
  
Orel looked at her calmly. His expression seemed to say nothing of his sad condition. "I was not thinking. I reacted in a blind rage."  
  
Minerva narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "And you have purged this anger from you?"  
  
He nodded curtly.  
  
The rest of the students standing inside the main doors looked upset that they wouldn't be seeing a dragon again. Harry, Hermione and Ron were off to one side, watching concernedly.  
  
"Off to the Infirmary with you. I will discuss your detention with the headmaster."  
  
He just nodded in reply. He started to push his way through the crowd. This was not a difficult feat, as people shrank back away from him.  
  
A younger girl whispered to her friend. "I heard he's a dark wizard." Her friend just shushed her, almost in a panic.  
  
Orel turned towards them. "Who told you that?" he asked in a calm voice.  
  
They look terrified.  
  
"Whoever they were, they made an accurate guess." He almost finished without flinching, but the pain of his broken arm was too much. He bared his teeth and hissed, almost collapsing from the pain.  
  
"Lean on me," Harry said suddenly. He looked quite worried as he slipped his arm under Orel.  
  
-  
  
"So, Mr. Maresk, would you like to explain what happened yesterday?" Professor Dumbledore said with his normal and cheerful manner.  
  
"I would out that my girlfriend was getting married. And got upset." The curtains around his bed were drawn close.  
  
"Ah, young love. It can be quite a painful thing. I am sorry that you found out in such a painful way." The headmaster sighed. "On to other matter, young man. Due to your actions yesterday, there is going to be an inquiry into your status as an Animagus."  
  
Orel just looked at him, confusion evident on his face.  
  
"Your turning into a dragon, of an unknown variety no less, has necessitated this. There will be an inquiry and you will have to be registered with your form."  
  
The student thought for a moment. "I take it an Animagus can only shift into one form?"  
  
"At will. Quite remarkable, really. Professor McGonagall is an Animagus and teaches student who wish to attempt that course." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.  
  
"Ah, then I don't qualify. My spell is just that. A spell. It allows me to assume a varied amount of form down to the size of a very small creature. It is not long in duration, either. To register my 'form' would be an exercise in futility." Orel had a nasty smile on his lips.  
  
"Wondrous indeed! Such a smashing spell. Perhaps in the future, you would share some insights into the changes these forms allow you to experience." The headmaster stood up with hop from the chair he had conjured. "You'll have to display this to the Aurors, of course. Do you need anything to prepare for this?"  
  
Orel glanced at the headmaster in surprise that he tried to conceal. "Just my books, please. I have the rest already."  
  
-  
  
The next day, Orel walked back into the Gryffindor common room.  
  
Neville looked up from where he was reading a book and paled slightly. "Er, hello Orel. How are you?"  
  
"I've had better days, actually. Sorry about that scare, the other day. I... lost control." Orel flumped into a cushy chair while pulling out a bit of homework to read.  
  
The pudgy boy gave him a quick, sideways glance. "I'm not the one that you need to apologize to."  
  
The Dalelander looked up, confused. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You hurt Lavender with that little stunt of yours, you know."  
  
"I didn't know." His mouth turned down in a small, sad frown. He stood up and looked around for the girl. As soon as he spotted her, he walked over.  
  
"Um, Lavender?" He waited until she looked up. "I really didn't mean to hurt anyone there. I was just so... angry. I have a bit of a temper at times."  
  
"Thank you, Orel. I couldn't hold it against you. Especially after we figured out that you must have fancied her. And it looks like she fell for that fellow she was with."  
  
A pained expression crossed his face. "Ah, thanks." He took a step back suddenly. "I'm tired suddenly. I'll see you guys later."  
  
-  
  
Up Next: Hogsmeade Weekend! 


	2. Plots and punishments

Harry Potter and the Wizard of Ashenbenford - 2

-

Orel Maresk looked over his work. He'd finally finished cleaning the mess up on the floor from one of Peeve's pranks. The moon gleamed through the darkened windows of the upper hallways of Hogwarts. The last several weeks had not been fun for him. He had lost fifty house points because of his anger and two weeks of detention with various staff members.

Orel wasn't the only one with detentions. Harry had his own, too. Their tempers were starting to seriously affect their studying ability. His own outburst in Divinations a day later had landed him a very severe detention. And a fine. He had even heard from Professor McGonagall that he may have to attend a hearing with the Ministry for the 'serious misuse of magic'.

Mr. Filch stepped out of a secret passage suddenly. He gave the student a very hard look. After a moment, he glanced at the floor. "Almost passable. I still wish that Professor Dumbledore would let me hang you by my chains. But I've still gotcha for another day or two, don't I?"

"That's not a very productive detention, is it? I wouldn't be helping you with anything." The young wizard stood up and kneaded his back.

The caretaker just gave him a nasty look. "Get you back to your common rooms. You might even have enough time to do your school work and a couple of hours of sleep," he said with a nasty smile.

Orel just nodded as he walked away. In just a few minutes, he was in front of the Fat Lady saying the password.

"Hello, Orel," Harry Potter said from in front of the fire. Hermione and Ron were both there, reading in their cushy chairs.

"What are you guys doing up?" Orel tossed himself into a chair with a groan.

"Just making sure you're all right." Harry reached into a pocket to pull out a little bell. "I got this from Dobby. That way I don't have to go to the kitchen to steal some food and coffee."

"Dobby thought it would be safer for Harry Potter not to be caught out in the corridors after curfew. So he made it and gave it a gift." Hermione smiled while she looked over her book.

Ron seemed lost in thought as he went over his book. Too bad, it wasn't a schoolbook, but one of his Quidditch books.

Harry rang the little bell. About a minute later, the house-elf appeared with a cracking sound. He was carrying a little tray of drinks.

Orel shook himself out of his stupor. "By the way, Hermione? Or Dobby? Why are you called house elves? You don't look a thing like the elves from my lands." He'd been wondering for the longest time, but he didn't think that Harry had a clue and didn't feel it was necessary to research on the odd little creatures. He took one of the mugs from Dobby.

"Er, they don't?" Hermione said as she took her own mug. She looked flustered for not knowing something so very important about one of her causes.

"Master Maresk, Dobby is very sorry to say that house-elves are not allowed to speak of such things. Even such as I who is free." Dobby's eyes looked at him very sorrowfully.

Hermione and Orel's eyebrows twitched into a deep furrowed thought.

"I wish I knew how to speak Elven," the Dale-Lander muttered to himself.

"Elves have their own language?" Ron queried, clearly unnerved by the thought.

"Yes, but house-elves are not allowed to teach humans the language." Dobby looked very sorrowful.

"Thank you, Dobby. You'd better run along and make sure Winky hasn't gotten herself into trouble." Harry smiled for Dobby's benefit.

With a crack, the house-elf disappeared. They spent a few minutes sipping and thinking of the strange encounter they'd just had.

Orel finally groaned as he pulled out his homework from Transfiguration. It really shouldn't be the hardest class he had, but he was not doing as well as he'd hoped.

Harry pulled out his own essay on Potions that was due in several days. In just an hour Harry and Ron were finished. "We'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

Hermione and Orel just nodded as the two other boys headed up to the dorm rooms.

The girl looked up intently. "Orel?"

"Yes?" he answered absently. They really should have codified wand movements like music notes. At least for most gestures.

"Would you like to meet us in Hogsmeade on the first weekend?"

Orel looked up in surprise. "Er? Who is us?"

"Oh, just some people that may be interested in learning how to properly do Defense Against the Dark Arts. We'll be meeting at the Hogshead Tavern." Hermione seemed quite self-assured and confident.

"Who are you getting to teach them?" he asked. He scribbled another line as she answered.

"I'm trying to convince Harry to do it. He doesn't think that he's good at it, but I know he has it in him. He's a great wizard." Hermione looked out to the night sky through the small windows. "And I've had a lot of interest from other students. That Umbridge is not going to ruin my OWLs!" she said furiously.

"A great wizard?" Orel raised an eyebrow at that.

"Well, he is. You know he's done things that full adults have failed to do. He's very brave and very caring. And-"

The dark-haired boy narrowed his eyes at her as he interrupted. "You love him."

Hermione gaped, totally dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?"

Orel just stared at her intently.

"What if I do? He doesn't care about me that way! He's only got eyes for another...girl." Her brown eyes seemed so haunted. "I'm just Hermione. One of his best friends."

"I thought you were a Gryffindor for bravery? You haven't even tried to tell him how you feel, have you?" He scribbled another line of his homework. "You should, if you haven't."

Hermione looked blankly off into the distance. She nodded to Orel. "You won't tell him? Please?"

"I won't volunteer it. If he asks, I'll answer."

Hermione didn't look happy at that. "I guess I will have to live with that."

-

The final week before the first weekend off the grounds seemed to take forever with all the schoolwork they did. But finally, the morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. After they had queued up for Filches line, they finally walked out of the castle.

"How did you sign yourself out?" Ron asked in shock after they were let loose.

"I'm an orphan that has no home, no family and no one who would take me any ways. Besides, I paid to attend Hogwarts on my own." Orel just smirked at that.

"Wicked!"

Orel's smile hid a very worried heart. He hadn't considered that he wasn't an adult until he'd had to be checked out by Filch. He wasn't even terribly sure exactly when his birthday was! Luckily, his bravado had bulled through the caretaker's ignorance of this particular situation.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"Oh no," said Hermione, "No, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, and it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit... you know... dodgy... but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."

Soon they were in front of the rather shabby building. "Well, come on," said Hermione, slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.

Orel took one look around and then followed them to the bar. His eyes narrowed at the woman sitting at the bar, her face totally covered in a veil. The bar was quite small and not really very crowded.

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"

The Dalelander leaned closer to them. "That is not a woman," he said in a voice just above a whisper.

Hermione looked stunned. "How can you tell?"

Orel shook his head. "Not right now. Bars like this have ears."

The barman sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long gray hair and a beard.

"What?" he grunted.

"Four Butterbeers, please," said Hermione.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.

"Eight Sickles," he said.

Harry quickly paid before anyone could argue. The barman's eyes traveled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away and deposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slid open automatically to receive it. They retreated to the furthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around. The man in the dirty gray bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.

"What do you mean that wasn't a woman?" Hermione whispered.

"It's a man. I can barely make out some features under that veil."

They looked at him incredulously. He shrugged back at them. "I'm wearing magic lenses. They're useful for spotting traps and ambushes."

Hermione looked like she was going to argue, but thought better of it. You could almost see her mind churning as she thought of the possibilities.

"So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his Butterbeer and taking a swig. His palms were suddenly hot and damp. This was turning out to be far more than he'd expected already. A spy in the bar they just happened to be in?

"Just a couple of people," Hermione replied, checking her watch and looking anxiously towards the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is - oh, look, this might be them now."

Orel narrowed his eyes and glanced around. "This is too open and too easy to be overheard here." He mumbled something under his breath and his face took on a look of intense concentration.

It suddenly seemed a large crowd had wandered in all of a sudden. A veritable gaggle of students wandered in, most people that Orel didn't recognize. Even a few adults and some sort of traveling entertainer walked in, too. The woman dropped her cloak to reveal an exotic outfit of silks that clung to her body.

"A couple of people?" asked Harry hoarsely to Hermione as he took in all the students. "_A couple of people?_"

The bar man had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly, he had never seen his pub so full.

The exotic woman walked up to the bar to haggle with the bartender about doing an impromptu performance. The young adults behind her waited a bit impatiently. With a curt nod, the bartender motioned to the corner near the door. She walked over and musical instruments floated out of a pouch and started to tune themselves. The noise level jumped extraordinarily when she started to sing. Oddly, her singing voice was only of average quality.

"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly, "could we have… twenty-five Butterbeers, please?" He got the group to give him the money for the Butterbeers.

In twos and threes, the new arrivals settled around them, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.

Behind them, two men sat down and started having an animated conversation in a foreign language. Their voices were raised a little loudly, and Fred winced as he was sitting right next to them.

"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well - er - hi."

The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

"Well… erm… well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea – I mean," (Harry had thrown her a sharp look) "I had the idea - that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us –" (Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) "- because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts –" ('Hear, hear,' said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looked heartened) "- Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

Orel half-listened to Hermione making her pitch to the group. He turned to Fred (or was it George?) and asked him, "Could you sneak these onto that table right there?" The young man handed Fred six Sickles.

"Er, why?" he whispered to Orel, most of his attention on Hermione and Harry.

"Because my illusions can't pay the bartender for their fire whiskey," he replied, his face very tight in concentration.

"Right then." Fred was suddenly watching Orel much closer. He leaned back and slipped the coin onto the table. A quick glance around him confirmed no one was really watching and he put his hand through the back of the man sitting there. He pulled it out quickly.

His twin looked over at him, wondering what the cause of his expression of awe was.

"Not, _now!_" Orel almost snapped. He was starting to sweat a bit. This was a new, very powerful spell he'd finally figured out. It was taking quite a strain to maintain the concentration and listen to Harry snap at Zacharias. He turned directly to the belligerent boy. "Do you want to be able to defend yourself and pass Defense against the Dark Arts?"

Zacharias looked startled and a little afraid. "Well, yes-"

Fred and George looked like they were about to rip into him.

"Then that's all you should really care about _why_. If you want to _ask_ Harry _politely_ later what happened to him on that night, in private mind you, he may actually answer." Orel's brow was starting to have sweat bead on his forehead. This shouldn't have been this hard.

"Are you all right?" Susan Bones asked.

Orel just nodded.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on… the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

Orel let the conversation about scheduling and conspiracies drift over him. He failed to notice the tremor in his hands.

"Orel, Hermione wants you to sign this parchment. You did listen to that part, didn't you?" Neville asked as he slid the parchment and pen to him.

He nodded as he started to sign. His fingers almost seemed to tingle a little as he touched the parchment. Orel's eyes suddenly narrowed as he looked at the list more closely. He threw a quick glance at Hermione before he very deliberately signed. Zacharias finally signed as the last person, obviously unhappy with his name being put on the paper.

Everyone broke up as they grabbed their Butterbeers or finished them quickly. Orel's face was still tight with concentration. Fred and George waited for the quartet.

"Say, Orel? Could you tell me how you did that?" Fred whispered just loud enough that their group could hear.

George crinkled his forehead in consternation. "What are you being daft about now, Fred?" he asked in a blandly pleasant voice.

"Orel did an illusion of those two blokes there," the other twin replied with a smug expression.

Harry, Hermione and the remaining Weasleys snatched startled looks around them. "What?" Ron exclaimed.

"Outside, please." Orel stood up and shuffled to the door. He caught himself at the door and shook his head.

"Hey, mate? You all right?" Ron asked, suddenly worried.

"I'll be fine in just a second." As soon as Orel had led the group down the road a small way, he relaxed. "That's better."

"What's better?" Hermione asked in a very confused.

Orel smirked as he rounded on them. "I had to think fast to cover our conversation a bit there. So I whipped up a loud crowd." He cricked his fingers. "Bloody hell on my concentration though. I almost lost it when Fred here stuck his hand in one of my illusions."

"How many people were real in there?" Hermione asked.

"No one who wasn't there before that gaggle of students you invited. So the bard, the duo and the family that wandered in about halfway were all illusions. They should be fading any moment now." Orel glanced back at the Hogshead Bar. "I wonder what they'll think when they disappear?"

"That is some seriously wicked magic, mate. You've got to show us that spell!" Fred and George exclaimed in unison.

"It's... something of my own devising. I haven't totally worked out all the issues." Orel turned towards Hermione. "So what was up with the enchanted parchment?"

Everyone was staring at Hermione suddenly. She had a panicked look as she quickly checked around. "How did you know?" she asked defensively.

"It's actually part of learning to divine something of a magical nature. I'm sensitive enough to know when something is magical."

"Hermione?" Harry asked, obviously confused and upset.

"I jinxed the parchment so that if anyone blabs, we'll know. I did it to protect the group!" She looked at Harry with such a pleading look that he was mollified.

"Our Hermione has a degree of low cunning that we hadn't suspected, hasn't she Fred?" George asked with a grin.

"Indeed! That was a true act of genius and underhandedness!"

The twins suddenly bowed. "We abase ourselves in you presence!"

"Oh, you two are so horrible!" Hermione said, obviously embarrassed with a bit of pink on her cheeks. She did have a small smile on her face. She turned to look at a window, noticing a display of quills. "Let's go in here."

Fred and George waved as they walked off, not following the quartet into the shop.

"Hey, Harry? What's this?" Orel asked as he looked at a little box in the back.

"That looks like a Muggle calligraphy set. Look, it even has the ink refills and all." Harry just grinned at his new friend's confusion.

"Refill?" Was that an arcane word? No, he said it was a Muggle thing.

"There's a place that will hold some ink inside of it. That way you don't have to dip it-"

"That's an amazing idea! Why hasn't anyone thought of it before?" The young man snapped it up in a heartbeat and headed to the shopkeeper. "And you say that is was Muggles that invented it?" Orel looked up to realize that he'd lost Harry, as it looked like Hermione had grabbed him.

Ron walked over from where Hermione was chatting with Harry. "Hey, Orel? Hermione said she wanted to ask Harry some things and that they'd catch up to us. How about we grab some candies."

And that was how Orel Maresk was introduced to the wonder of wizarding candies from Honey Dukes, the candy shop of Hogsmeade.

-

They had wandered over to the Three Broomsticks after they purchased some candies. Ron and Orel were just starting to settle down when Professor McGonagall found them. "There you are Orel. I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to accompany me now."

Orel waved to Ron. "Tell Harry and Hermione I'm off with her, will you?"

"Sure, mate!" Ron seemed to be put out, but took it with good cheer.

"Mr. Maresk, I received an owl today from the Ministry of Magic. They have set up an inquiry and hearing for tomorrow. You will need to catch the Hogwarts Express in just an hour to London. I suppose you will have to stay at an inn until your appointment. You will be late for school Monday, I dare say." Professor McGonagall was pushing her way through a gaggle of students. She seemed very tense and upset.

"I don't have to take the Hogwarts Express, do I?" Orel asked as he followed behind her.

"No, you could take a broom, but that is very uncomfortable over such a long distance. And there's the danger of being spotted, of course."

They were nearing the carriages that would take them back to Hogwarts. "If I knew a spell that would take me there, I could use it instead. Couldn't I?"

"Mr. Maresk, you are not allowed to Apparate or Disapparete! You are not licensed or old enough! And Portkey's are a highly regulated and difficult spell for a fully qualified wizard. Which you are not yet!" She seemed to be affronted by his suggestion.

"And if I could cast a different spell? One from my homeland?" Orel rolled his eyes.

"Then you might be safe to cast it. It is a long distance to London. You are sure you won't get lost?"

"No. I need to go to St. Mungo's any ways."

McGonagall nodded; her expression suddenly grim. "Ah, yes. That would be a good idea."

-

Orel looked up from his list of directions at the odd little 'phone' box. Shrugging, he dialed the number as it said and lifted the 'receiver'. He squinted into the morning sunlight.

"State you name and purpose to the Ministry of Magic, please." The pleasant female voice in the air seemed to be terribly bored.

"Orel Maresk for a hearing concerning an incident that happened in Hogwarts." A little badge clunked into the opening. He took it out and saw that it explained his purpose as he sunk into the depths of the ground.

After being checked through security and told where to go, he ended up in a small office down several floors. A portly man, his young assistant and an older woman sat in the office.

"Mr. Maresk? This is Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic and his personal assistant Percival Weasley. My name is Amelia Bones. I am the presiding judge in this matter."

"Very pleased to meet you," Orel said as he shook hands congenially. This seemed to surprise Fudge and Weasley.

Madam Bones read from a paper on the desk. "It has come to our attention that you caused a serious injury and a large amount of property damage to Hogwarts. How do you plead?"

"The only injuries caused because of my actions was my own broken bones and one girl who was burned by some of the mirror splattering on her. I did not realize that constituted as a 'serious' injury. Considering we were both in class later that same day. I do not plead guilty to that charge." Orel looked at the judge quite blandly. "I do plead 'guilty' to damaging the classroom. I was under the impression that the fine that I paid for its repairs was the punishment for my misdeeds, along with my detentions."

Cornelius Fudge leaned forward. "And what if it had been one of the students that had gotten you so angry that you would have blasted them with that spell?"

"Then they would have died. But I have never attacked a student. I feel much freer to vent my... anger on inanimate objects. Objects are replaceable, of course." Orel worked as hard as he could to hold back his temper.

"Due to the seriousness of this issue and the safety of the students, I do feel that we need to know if you have ever attacked anyone in the past."

"Why, yes. Of course." Orel's tone of voice was very, very bland now.

The three adults looked at the young man incredulously. "I'm sorry? Did you just admit to attacking someone?" Cornelius looked as if a goose had just laid a golden egg in front of him.

"You never asked me who I attacked, which is very important in this instance."

Madam Bones coughed loudly. "Mr. Maresk, I don't think you realize the seriousness of this issue. If we find you to be a danger to Wizarding society, your wand will be snapped and you could find yourself imprisoned. We do not hold that attacking anyone is reasonable."

Fudge had folded his fist over his mouth. He seemed quite agitated. "Yes, indeed. It is our duty to protect our children from... deviants."

"So you do not feel that destroying undead and killing bandits that threaten my life is not 'reasonable'?" the young man asked.

The red-haired young man finally looked up from his note taking. "You seriously expect us to believe that you used magic to kill bandits and monsters?"

"Of course. It is a time-treasured tradition of my lands to send their young adults out adventuring. With Orcs, Goblins and many other fell creatures in the wilderness, someone is needed to keep them from threatening our homeland." Orel was starting to look agitated and upset.

"So you are an 'Adventurer'? One who seeks out danger and treasures?" Fudge looked almost gleeful at this question.

"I am an adventurer who seeks out cures for my terminal illness!" he snapped back. "If that takes me into danger, then so be it."

"Mr. Maresk, who was the latest person you attacked or killed?" Madam Bones asked, her monocle held very tight by her squinting cheek.

"The last person? That would have had to have been a Fire Blade assassin sent to kill a... friend of mine at the behest of the Red Wizards of Thay." Orel's voice was quite strained now.

"And why did you friend have paid assassins after her? And who are these Red Wizards you are speaking of?" Fudge demanded angrily. "This is starting to sound more and more like a fairy tale."

The young man looked at them oddly. "Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you that I come from another world?"

"Well, yes. But that sort of thing is too far fetched..."

"But you own history has mentioned places like Avalon, Heaven and Hells." Orel looked quite pleased at that fact.

Madam Bones shared a quick glance with Minister Fudge. "And how did you know that?"

"Oh, I'm researching a way home, of course. I haven't made much progress yet, but it's only been a few months. I'm sure that in just a year, I'll have figured a way home shortly. I ran across Avalon in my readings."

"Have you ever attacked anyone willfully with intent to murder them?"

"Of course not. I am not a murderer." Orel found that it was mildly repellent to him, now that it was brought up in such a manner. That was odd, he thought to himself. In the past, it would not have been the thought of murdering somebody that would have stopped him, but getting _caught_. Ah, well.

"And _all_ the people and things that you killed were justified?" she asked again.

He squinted his eyes in thought. "I believe so. About the only time that was even remotely questionable was that ship's captain that was colluding with an evil wizard and undead pirates from a ship I sank. And that was just because I went with my instincts that told me he was in on the scam before I totally checked everything out."

"And you sunk the undead pirate ship?" Fudge asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes. Sailing ships catch fire marvelously at three hundred paces. Probably one of my better fireball spells, if I say so myself."

"Madam Bones, if I may? Mr. Maresk... I don't know that I should allow you to return to Hogwarts. You seem to have a violent streak, from what you told us. Now, I might be willing to overlook this a bit... if you gave us an inside tip about what Dumbledore is planning."

"I'm sorry; did you just ask me to spy for you?"

Fudge nodded. "I have it on reputable sources that Dumbledore is looking to destabilize the Ministry of Magic so that he can supplant it with something of his own devising. I need better information. Potter is being used as a cat's paw of Dumbledore. You've become a bit of a friend of the young Potter, haven't you?"

"Well, I am in the same house and year," Orel said quietly. He did not like the way this was turning.

"If you promised that you would give us a head's up about Dumbledore's plan against the Ministry, then I could see what we could do to let you go back to Hogwarts. Perhaps even have someone check into spells that might return you to your home."

"So if I promised that I would tell you about anything that Dumbledore is doing to subvert the Ministry of Magic illegally, I could return?" Well, that was an easy enough promise to make. From what Harry and Hermione had told him, Dumbledore didn't care about Fudge's little regime except for the fact that it wasn't dealing with Voldemort effectively.

"Yes. We would have to have you promise under the most powerful truth potion. I happen to have some with me, right here."

Madam Bones looked shocked at that. "Minister Fudge?"

"Don't worry, Madam. This is just to verify that Mr. Maresk is telling us the truth."

-

The next Monday came soon, along with classes. Harry's owl, Hedwig, showed up in their History of Magic class with an injury and a letter, but that seemed to be rather quiet, really. Orel ignored Umbridge when she showed up check out their potion's class. He had to keep poking Harry to get him back to working on his potion. It was just lucky that he managed to save his potion from a serious mess up.

Their divination's class was in an uproar. Umbridge had put Professor Trelawney on probation. While their class was busy trying to read their _Oracle_ as best as possible, Orel thought about what he should do here. He didn't particularly like this class, as it really seemed to be more guesswork and reliance of an inborn trait that most students weren't going to have. Finally, he decided that he really didn't have a good way of salvaging her career. At least not without tipping of his non-wand magic.

That evening, after Fred and George made a small fortune selling their gag candies in the common room until late, the four of them were sitting in front of the fire doing homework again. Orel was giving Harry a bit of help, until a head appeared in the fire again.

"Oh, you're back?" Orel asked.

"Er, yes. Hedwig carried a message that he would Floo us tonight again. Sirius, is everything all right?" Harry asked as he kneeled in front of the fire.

"Yes. It seems you've got people curious, after what happened at the Hog's Head on Saturday. Strange illusions and disappearing patrons," Sirius said from the fireplace that was filled with green flames.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "And how do you know about anything there?"

"Mundungus was there, of course. Under-"

Harry interrupted his godfather gleefully, "That was him under that witch's getup?"

Sirius definitely seemed surprised at their knowledge. "How did you know that?"

"Orel spotted him. He took precautions so that we wouldn't be overheard because of it," Hermione explained.

"Clever lad. And what was it that you talking about that required covering it up quite so noisily?" the man in the fire asked.

"I'm still being followed?" asked Harry angrily.

"Yes. For your own safety. You Know Who still has followers that would love to get back at you to earn his favor. You never answered what you were doing there. What was so dreadfully important that you couldn't let yourself be overheard?"

Harry sat back, obviously fuming. Hermione spoke up with, "We're starting a self-defense club."

"So," said Sirius, "how are you organizing this group? Where are you meeting?"

"Well, that's a bit of a problem now," said Harry grumpily. "Dunno where we're going to be able to go."

"Oh," said Sirius, frowning. "Perhaps the Shrieking Shack. Well, I'll have a think and get back to -"

He broke off. His face was suddenly tense, alarmed. He turned sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wall of the fireplace.

"Sirius?" said Harry suddenly anxious.

But he had vanished. Harry gaped at the flames for a moment, and then turned to look at Ron and Hermione.

"Leave the room, quickly!" Orel snapped.

The four of them ran for it. At the door of the boys' dormitory Harry and Orel looked back.

Pudgy hands were making snatching movements amongst the flames, as though they knew exactly where Sirius's hair had been moments before and were determined to seize it.

-

During their next charm's class, they discussed what had happened.

"_Silencio!_" Ron cried out, trying to silence a crow.

"Like this," Orel explained. He carefully waved and then jabbed his wand with exaggerated movements. "_Silencio!_ The little jab at the end is important. It's how you aim the jinx."

Hermione had her bullfrog already silenced. "Someone is reading your mail, Harry."

"How do you figure?" he replied glumly. He miscast his spell on his frog.

"I suspected as much when you told us that Filch accusing you of ordering dungbombs." Hermione hastily silenced Harry's expanding toad.

"That makes sense. It also goes along with Fudge wanting me to spy on you to let me back into Hogwarts." Orel tapped his lips with his pointing finger thoughtfully.

The other three looked at him in alarm. "He what?" Harry cried out. He quickly lowered his voice at Flitwick's glare.

"I, of course, promised him that I would tell him immediately if Dumbledore made any illegal moves against the right and proper Ministry of Magic. This isn't going to happen, from what you've said. So it was an easy promise to make."

"Crikey, how did you get him to believe you?" Ron hissed out softly.

"Truth potion. And really, if Dumbledore was going to unlawfully move to replace the Ministry of Magic, I _would_ feel compelled to let someone know. That wouldn't be... right." Orel suddenly looked out the window. "There I go doing it again. Making a _right_ choice. Some evil wizard I am."

"You aren't evil, Orel. You may have a bit of a temper, but that doesn't make you evil." Hermione just smiled at him before looking back to Harry. She poked him to get him to try and silence his frog again.

Ron finally got his crow to caw softly.

"Almost there, Ron. And I know I'm an evil wizard. I was driven out of my home by the local priest. He almost convinced the peasants to stone me, but I managed to slip out the day before he could capture me."

"How could your priest _know_ that you were evil, Orel?" the bushy-haired girl asked interestedly.

"Priests from my lands know things like that. Their gods give them the power to look into the hearts of man and monster." Orel's knuckles tightened on the edge of his table.

"But you aren't the same boy from then, are you?" Harry asked. "You really don't seem like a bad chap. You've even stuck up for me about Umbridge."

"I hate her and what she's trying to do," Orel explained.

"So do we, but that doesn't make us evil," Ron said in a tone that he wasn't really paying total attention. He finally silenced his crow. "Got it!"

"Besides, anyone that can help Ron learn a new spell like that isn't a bad person at all!" Hermione said with a laugh that Harry joined in a moment later.

-

Orel was quite happy the next evening when they had their first meeting. He followed Harry as he led Hermione, Ron and himself up to the seventh floor. After checking with the Marauder Map that it was clear, they opened a door that suddenly appeared in the hallway after they concentrated.

"Merlin's Beard! This room is huge!" Ron exclaimed. "And why is it got a load of crap in here?"

"But look at the books!" Hermione enthused gleefully.

The room they were in was quite huge, stretching over a hundred and fifty feet and fifty feet wide. It was high and vaulted, with wooden crossbeams above their heads. On the wall near them were bookshelves and strange magical devices.

"It must stretch time and space," Orel muttered to himself. "And for why it is so big, that's probably my fault. You can't properly learn combat magic for twenty-nine people in a classroom. There's not enough room."

"But... why the clutter?" Hermione asked even as Harry just grinned.

"Harry knows, I bet."

"You're thinking a little too simply, Hermione. I ducked behind a gravestone when Voldemort tried to kill me. You have to use the area you are in to the best effect." Harry looked over the library of Dark Art book, quite happy with what he saw.

"That makes sense, I guess. Where did you learn this sort of thing, Orel?" she asked as she started to flip through a book.

"Just the forest near my town. Nearly got me killed by a goblin, actually. But I managed to take it out before it could gut me with a spear."

"Oh? Goblins and Wizards don't like each other where you are from either?" Ron asked as he slouched along, checking the room.

The Dalelander snorted. "Our human and goblin make your little goblin revolts look like a tea party. Orc, Goblins and other humanoids have been doing their best to wipe each other out for thousands of years. Then you get the really nasty monsters that just want to kill everything else, and well, you have my home."

"Orel! Hundreds of people died in those revolts! How can you belittle them like that," Hermione said, scandalized it seemed.

Harry and Ron looked on in wary interest.

Orel replied unashamedly, "Hermione, the wars that different nations of humans have fought against just the goblins and orcs have probably had thousands of deaths in the last twenty years."

"Has no one tried to agree to a peaceful solution?" she asked.

"Their gods want us dead. Orcs hate elves especially. Goblins hate halfling, gnomes and dwarves almost as fiercely. And humans are hated because we're basically the most successful nation-builders in the last several thousand years."

"What did their gods do, come down and tell them specifically to go kill you?" Hermione rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Er, yes. Don't yours?" Orel looked between the three in surprise.

"Most of Wizarding society doesn't really believe in God. And God doesn't just come down like that, I guess." Hermione suddenly looked very unsure.

"Don't you have priests that can cure almost any illness, any injury? That deal with things like undead?"

They were interrupted by a knocking on the door. As each new group arrived, they would start to explain about the room but have to restart when the next group arrived. They were all quite impressed by the room

"Well," said Harry, slightly nervously. "This is the place we've found for practice sessions, and you've - er - obviously found it okay."

"It's fantastic!" said Cho, and several people murmured their agreement.

"It's bizarre," said Fred, frowning around at it. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean from one side of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.

"Dark detectors," said Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled..."

He gazed for a moment into the cracked Foe-Glass; shadowy figures were moving around inside it, though none was recognizable. He turned his back on it.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and - er -" He noticed a raised hand.

"What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," said Hermione.

"Harry's leader!" said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad.

"It is important that we set these things up first though. I agree that Harry would be the best leader," Orel said from his cushion.

"It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So... everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?" said Hermione, unperturbed. At the raise of hands, she nodded. "I think we should also pick a name for our group. For team spirit and such."

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the DA's good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

"A name is a very important thing, Ginny. We may decide on that as a joke, but it could come back to haunt us," Orel said sharply. "It can take on its own life and we may become what we name ourselves."

"I think Dumbledore's Army is a fine name," George said loftily. "And if it comes true, well, that's just the Ministry's fault, isn't it?"

A lot of people laughed at that. The name was passed almost unanimously at that point. Harry got everyone to start practicing a very basic spell after explaining the importance of its use to Zacharias.

Orel ended up practicing with Neville, who managed to disarm him. "I did it! I've never disarmed anyone before!"

"It's a new spell to me. Give me a moment, will you?" Orel practiced the spell's incantation and motion. "Ready!" They disarmed each other this time.

Harry happened to be walking by. "Very good both of you. Keep up the good work. Neville, you need to aim your spell a bit better. Orel, you're slurring a bit."

They went back to it with a will. Neville improved as quickly as Orel did, both had it down pat by the end of the session before they had to sneak back to their dorms.

-

Nothing much of interest occurred until the first Quidditch match of the year in November except for Hermione's giving out fake galleons that would allow them to know when the next meeting was going to be happening. Everyone was quite impressed by that bit of magic, as it was transfiguration magic only a fully qualified witch or wizard was supposed to be capable of mastering. A NEWT standard spell.

Orel found that he actually enjoyed Quidditch. It was not quite as spectacular as non-lethal wizard dueling was at home, but it employed more teamwork. Ron seemed to be fine up until the first shot against him, which scored.

It became one-sided quite quickly, as the Slytherins scored again and again easily against the rattled keeper. It became even worse, when the Slytherins broke out into song. "Weasley is our king..." totally ruined his concentration. After just a few minutes, Harry managed to salvage the game by catching the snitch before they were out-pointed.

Orel pulled out his wand, pointed it at himself and muttered, "_Methus Uip._" He leaped off the edge even as Seamus yelled for him to stop. He floated at a sedate pace downward and landed with soft thump. He grinned. Another of his old spells transferred to wand-type magic.

All of the players had landed at the middle of the field, so Orel started walking towards them. He started walking quicker when it looked as if a fight might break out any moment.

"Or perhaps," Malfoy was saying, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasleys pigsty reminds you of it-"

With a roar, Harry and one of the Weasley twins charged at Malfoy intent on beating him to within an inch of his life. Harry smashed his fist into the smirking Slytherin's face with all his hatred behind it.

"Harry! HARRY! FRED! NO!" Angelina yelled out.

Orel heard the scream, but his reaction was not to join in the fight. He pulled out his wand and muttered a powerful incantation. From behind the stands near the forest, massive trees suddenly snapped as loud as thunder and broke as a huge, deep-red saurian form broke from the forest. Gigantic, red wings spread out blotting the sky. With a tremendous roar, the scarlet dragon silenced everyone on the field.

"We're all going to die," someone said very quietly.

"_Revealiosimo!_" Orel shouted as a beam of scintillating light blasted the dragon. The form morphed, shifted and shrank until it was very sheepish looking pixie.

"Uh oh," it squeaked. The little winged fairy zipped around and flew back into the forest.

"You'll pay for that, Potter!" Draco shouted as he managed to shrug himself free from Harry's dazed grasp.

"Mr. Malfoy! What happened?" Madam Hootch had finally managed to interpose herself. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley! What have you done?"

"That nutter Potter attacked me!" Draco shouted as he smeared the blood from his split lip across his face. "And that thug Weasley, too!"

"I've never seen behavior like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now. I must sort out what happened here!" the coach took out her wand and started heading toward the forest.

Orel sighed. Looks like Harry was up for more detentions. He craned his neck to see if he could spot another troublesome redhead. Ron was near the three hoops he had failed to defend, dejectedly wandering off the pitch away from everyone else.

Hermione gabbed his arm as he was walking to catch up to him. "Let him go. He needs some space."

"That is exactly what he doesn't need. I intend to knock some sense into him." The Dalelander shrugged off her grip and strode rapidly after Ron. He let him get away from the pitch before he walked extra loudly to attract the redhead's attention.

"Go away, Orel. I don't want to hear it," he snapped with a look over his shoulder.

"Hear what?" the foreign boy asked snidely.

Ron spun on his heal. "That I'm rubbish and shouldn't be on the team. That I had to have my best friend _save_ the game because I shouldn't be allowed on a broom and-"

"Shut up, you idiot! I can't believe that you are doing exactly what the Slytherins want you to. You are letting them turn you into a liability because of your attitude!" Orel yelled right back.

"I have to tell Angelina that I can't do this anymore. That she needs to-"

"-quit, just like Slytherin wants. What a selfish little trugimenk you are! _Oh, woe is I! I must give up because I am too sensitive to what people say! It is so hard to ignore them! I think I'll go sulk!_"

"Shut up! You don't know what it is like!" Ron yelled.

"So it's easy to get angry at me? Why not get mad at Slytherin?" Orel shouted right back. "Oh, that's right! You just fall apart on their command!"

"I did not!"

"Bullocks! You miss one goal and then they start up with their stupid _Weasley is our King,_ and you go to pieces. You might as well have a dunce cap on your head saying _'I am a sucker'_. You _let_ them control you, Weasley. Where was your righteous anger when your team needed it?"

Ron grabbed the front of Orel's robes and lifted the smaller teen off his feet. "I should knock your block off, you jerk!"

"I'll make it easier for you," Orel said, just before punching him in the jaw.

Ron staggered back from the punch, more from surprise than pain. With a yell of outrage, he dropped the other boy to the ground and snapped a punch at Orel's head that barely missed.

"That better! Maybe with a bit more anger you might-" Orel's diatribe was broken off with another punch from the bigger boy that connected solidly to his jaw.

"Just shut up! Shut up!"

"Why? Has anything I said _not_ been the truth? Why don't you prove to me that I'm wrong?" Orel was circling carefully, ready to continue the fight in a moments notice.

"Prove what?"

"Show me that you won't let the Slytherin's _control_ you, make you do what _they_ want. Or are you a Slytherin patsy, _Weasel?_ Use that anger against your enemies, not your friends and house!" Orel backed off and headed back up to the castle.

"We aren't done yet, Orel!" Ron yelled.

"Yes, Ron, we are. At least until you grow up."

-

Orel avoided Ron for the next day or so, which also had the effect of having him avoid Harry and Hermione more than he expected. Ron was more than happy to avoid him also.

On Monday at breakfast, Orel finally found out what had happened to Harry and Fred due to their fight on the Quidditch field. That was, after the hubbub of the huge teacher, Hagrid reappearing at the teacher's table.

Harry glowered at him once Orel impinged on his awareness. "Umbridge tried to get us banned from playing ever again. Angelina was not very happy at all. And what did you say to Ron? He's been half serious about poisoning you or something."

"I told him off for letting Malfoy play him for a patsy. So, more detentions?"

Harry winced. "Yes. And a fifty points apiece off from Gryffindor, too."

"Ah, I was wondering what put us out of the race. For the while, any ways. Another educational decree?"

On the notice board was another ministry decree: Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. In simple words, the Hogwarts Inquisitor could not be over ruled by a mere professor on any punishments.

"I'd say she's a bit upset that Professor McGonagall over ruled her for banning us from Quidditch for life," Harry mused aloud.

"I'd say so." Orel looked over his course reading. They had Care for Magical Creatures today, after all.

-

"Thestrals. So are they totally natural? Or did they get created like owl-bears?" Orel asked as the rest of the class (minus Harry, Ron and Hermione, of course) looked on with a bit of feat at the shreds of cow that were disappearing into 'thin' air. As far as most could see, anyway.

"Wha? As far as I know, they are natural, fer sure. So you, Harry and Neville can see them." Hagrid looked around happily. "Does anyone know why only certain people can see them?"

Hermione raised her hand just a moment before Orel's hand.

"Let's give Orel a chance to answer this one, Hermione. Go ahead." Hagrid stared at the 'transfer' student intently.

"They can only be seen by one who has seen and truly understands death." The young Dale Lander quirked an eyebrow at the huge man.

"Tha's right." Hagrid beamed. "Now Thestrals are downright useful creatures. I reckon that I've got the only trained herd in Britain."

"So, Orel, who did you see flop over dead in front of you? We know Potty _saw_ Cedric die, although I think the Ministry is looking into those particulars." Malfoy gave the foreign boy a disarmingly evil grin.

"Oh, not much," Orel said blandly, talking right over Hagrid. "I just happened to see my mother raped and murdered in her own bed when I was three."

Several of the girl squealed at that. Even Malfoy looked surprised, though not too shocked.

"Tha's enough of tha'. Now..."

"Hem, hem." All of the students turned to see Umbridge stepping out of the shadows.

"Oh, hullo!" Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.

Orel and Harry just listened in horror as Umbridge proceeded to make Hagrid look like a total oaf and lout. Harry looked over at Hermione, Ron and Orel as if to plead to them to do _something._

Orel raised his hand. "Excuse me, Professor."

Hagrid nodded his head. "Yeah?"

"Professor Grubbly-Plank wasn't able to answer a question I had about Liechrums. He had mentioned it wasn't possible to tame them, but they could be pets. He said they chose their owners very carefully, but never explained exactly how they make their choice." Orel put his hand down as he asked the question. "I couldn't find an answer in the library."

"Ah, tha's a good question. From what I've heard, they can get impressions from a person mind. A bit like legilimency, actually. I'm not too familiar with legilimency or occlumency, mind you. But my understanding is it allows someone to peek into your thoughts and memories. So a Liechrum checks your memories for anything about you hurting animals and such as." Hagrid beamed to his class. "Now, does anyone have any questions about Thestrals?"

Umbridge leveled a nasty glare at Orel. "Why I never..."

He looked her right back, eye to eye. "I'm quite impressed that Professor Hagrid knew something that Professor Grubbly-Plank didn't about creatures." He turned to Hermione. "How about you, Miss Granger."

"Indeed. Professor Hagrid really knows his animals," she replied quickly while trying to smother a laugh.

Quite a few of the Gryffindors that had been scared before were now giving Hagrid a much more respectful look now. Even a couple of Slytherins looked at the giant man in surprise.

The rest of the class passed uneventfully, but Malfoy and his cronies couldn't help but heckle the Gryffindors on the way back to class.

"Orel and Potty, in a tree!" they sang badly while laughing.

Orel looked over to Ron. "Bet I can hit that rock with a spell," he said, pointing out at a small rock in the middle of the field with his wand.

The redhead glared back at him. "Whatever."

Orel winked slyly at him. "_Ignis Orbus!_" he shouted as he launched a fiery sphere at the rock from the tip of his wand. The little ball exploded on impact with a thundering boom. Damp grass was smoldering after the magical flames vanished in a forty-foot wide circle. "Oops. I guess I over did my fireball," Orel said loudly in an innocent voice. "Well, that's why I didn't want to show you that outside."

"You'll be in trouble for that!" Malfoy shouted. Crab and Goyle just looked terrified of the small boy. They started to edge off quickly.

"Say, Harry? Hermione? Do you want me to teach you that one? I've got a few good combat spells that I'm getting rusty about casting." Orel _seemed_ to be totally ignoring the Slytherin trio.

Harry couldn't help but grin. "Wicked."

The youngest Weasley boy coughed uncomfortably, his ears red with embarrassment. "Say, Orel?"

"Sure, Ron. Sorry I was so rough on you after the Quidditch match. Friends?" Orel gave him a wicked grin.

"I needed it. I'm not going to let..." Ron nodded at the retreating figures. "And that spell looks wickedly cool. Friends."

"Not too useful indoors, I'll admit. But outside it's handy for exploding monsters in large numbers."

-

Fall turned into winter quickly and the holidays were fast approaching when 'Dumbledore's Army' had finished their last practice before the holidays.

Hermione, Ron and Orel were doing homework in the Gryffindor common room when Harry finally wandered in, in a bit of a daze. Ron was lying on the hearthrug, trying to finish his Transfiguration homework.

"What kept you?" he asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to Hermione's a bit apprehensively.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked, peering at him over the tip of her quill. She seemed to be watching him very intently.

"Well, er, I just had a run in with Cho." Harry pulled at his collar nervously. "You, um, know that I'd been interested in her for a while?"

Hermione smiled, though it looked a bit pained. "I know, Harry."

"Well, she's interested in me now too. She kissed me. Under the mistletoe! It wasn't my idea. Especially, after you told me that you fancied me, Hermione. You know what I mean." Harry looked incredibly nervous.

Ron snapped his head up at those comments as he broke his quill. "What? You and Hermione? Aren't you interested in Cho? What did I miss?"

Hermione's face was almost glowing in embarrassment. In a small voice, she said, "I just told Harry that I fancied him."

"But... But..." The red-haired boy seemed to have lost his ability to string words together coherently.

"Good. I'm glad you were able to tell him," Orel said absently. He was reading for Professor Binn's essay that was due in a few days. Mostly to check for errors in his document.

Ron, Hermione and Harry all glanced over at him. "What does that mean?" Ron demanded.

Orel dark-eyed gaze looked into Ron's unflinchingly. "She was pining away, hoping that he'd notice her."

"But I..." Ron broke off as he looked helplessly at Hermione. "I kind of fancied Hermione."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at that pronouncement.

The Dalelander made a theatrical groan. "And when were you going to let her know?"

"When I was ready!"

"So you have two girls that _fancy_ you, Harry? Most guys dream about being in your boots," Orel said with a wide, nasty grin to try and change the subject.

"It's very confusing, is what it is. I hadn't _really_ thought it all out. And it wasn't anything I expected when I was with her. She was crying. Because of Cedric, I think. That made me... I dunno, uncomfortable." Harry's expression was very troubled.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to trouble you." With that, Hermione jumped to her feet and started to scoop up her parchments, unshed tears in her eyes.

"Wait, Hermione! You would... you are never trouble. You've always been there. I'm just starting to get used to the idea that you want there to be an _us_ is all. I'm just a jumble about this. I need to figure it out." Harry took a deep breath. "And you are very important to me, Hermione. I agreed to give _us_ a chance, didn't I?"

Hermione's reply was very soft. "Yes, you did." She turned to look him in his deep green eyes. "I love you, Harry. I think I have for years. But... I can't force you to love me back."

Orel saw Ron wince at that. The Weasley looked very distraught at the tableau in front of him. He swallowed deeply, but couldn't seem to find his voice.

"Hermione. I wish I could answer you right now. But I don't know what love is. I've barely even had any friends before Hogwarts. I didn't even think anyone would care about me." Harry turned back to Ron. "You two have been the best of friends that I could ever want. You're already like my family."

"We'll always be there for you, Harry." Hermione's eyes shone bright with unshed tears.

Ron gulped and then opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally he said, "Always, Harry. That's what true friend are. Always there for each other."

-

The 5th year Gryffindors were awoken the night before the holidays by Harry screaming in his sleep.

"Harry!"

Ron was standing over him looking extremely frightened. There were more figures at the foot of Harry's bed. He clutched his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him… he rolled right over and vomited over the edge of the mattress.

"He's really ill," said Dean. "Should we call someone?"

"Harry! _Harry!_"

"Your dad," he panted, his chest heaving. "Your dad's… been attacked…"

"What?" said Ron uncomprehendingly.

"Your dad! He's been bitten, it's serious, and there was blood everywhere…"

Orel spoke up suddenly. "How do you know, Harry? You've been here. Doesn't Ron's dad live south of London?"

"It wasn't a dream… not an ordinary dream… I was there, I saw it… I _did_ it…"

Seamus and Dean were muttering but Harry didn't care. The pain in his forehead was subsiding slightly, though he was still sweating and shivering feverishly. He retched again and Ron leapt backwards out of the way.

"Harry, you're not well," he said shakily. "Neville's gone for help."

"I'm fine!" Harry choked, wiping his mouth on his pajamas and shaking uncontrollably. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's your dad you've got to worry about - we need to find out where he is - he's bleeding like mad - I was - it was a huge snake."

"Harry, does this have to do with your scar?" Orel asked suddenly. "Is your scar hurting." That was an easy guess, as it was inflamed and Harry seemed to be holding his head.

Harry could only nod weakly. When Professor McGonagall appeared, Harry managed to convince her to bring him to Dumbledore. Ron was asked to follow along.

Orel just tagged along on his own. Soon they ended up in the headmaster's office where he started to send out order to his paintings and sent off his little mini-phoenix to stand guard.

The young Dalelander listened intently, even as Dumbledore's eye kept track of them carefully. The old wizard seemed to understand that Harry and Ron trusted him. But how far that trust would extend, he didn't know.

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

"It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "Professor Umbridge must know you're out of your beds… Minerva, go and head her off - tell her any story -"

"Professor Dumbledore and I have been discussing my next trip to Saint Mungo's, of course." The only Gryffindor that wasn't being sent off... somewhere said with a tight smile.

"Indeed. I have even managed to procure an ancient volume of Avalonian lore." Dumbledore stood up and retrieved a kettle that he bid all of the Weasley children to touch, along with Harry. They disappeared with a pop, leaving a slightly bewildered headmaster behind.

"Yes, in essence divided," he mumbled to himself.

"Oh?" Orel asked.

Dumbledore suddenly focused on the young man left there. "Yes, that book of Avalonian lore that I mentioned that I had found. It really was quite interesting. Unfortunately, the only way to get to the other world of Avalon was through a very specific gateway. Other realms seem to be the domain of spirits."

"You're not going to let me know what's going on, are you?" Orel had a small grin on his face.

"Now such a location may be a weakening of the walls between worlds. If we can discover where the path to Avalon was, you may discover a means to get back to your own world," the headmaster continued blithely.

There was a sudden rapping on the doorway. In just a moment, Umbridge barged into the room followed by McGonagal. "Professor Dumbledore, what is going on?" the short, stout woman asked.

"Would you like a lemon drop?" he replied.

"No, I would not! I would like an answer to what is going on with that delinquent, Harry Potter!" she snapped back.

"I wasn't aware that Harry had broken any rules by not being well. I must have missed that educational decree," Orel mused aloud in a false sotto voice.

Professor Umbridge's face turned a remarkable hue. "Young man, are you insinuating something?"

"No, Ma'am. But the last time I saw Harry he wasn't feeling too well. He'd been throwing up earlier."

Professor McGonagall smiled tightly. "Yes, I hardly think that a student that isn't feeling well is a matter that you need involve yourself. I'm sure he'll be better in a short time."

Umbridge gave all three of them an unpleasant glare. "Very well, I will find out for myself what is going on. You're cooperation, or lack thereof, will be noted."

After she'd left, Dumbledore raised one eyebrow at the young Dalelander. "Aren't you worried that this will cause Minister Fudge to rethink letting you stay here at Hogwarts, Orel?"

"Of course not! I'm being a very good little spy and insinuating myself into your favor, aren't I?" Orel just grinned crookedly. He felt something probing around the edge of his consciousness. "Please don't do that, whatever it was."

"Interesting. Well, you will be taking the Hogwarts Express back to London and then travel to St. Mungo's?" Dumbledore asked blithely while ignoring his response to his own occulemancy.

"Yes sir."

-

"Hey, Harry!" Orel called out from across the reception hall of St. Mungo's the next day. He had decided to not wait for the train. He was quite able to teleport himself from the Hogshead station.

"Shsss!" the young wizard behind the desk hissed out.

Orel wandered over to Harry who was standing in the middle of the Weasleys. "Orel? What are you doing here?" Harry asked. He looked tired and frazzled.

"Dying, of course. Remember?" He just rolled his eyes at his friend. "Hello, Ma'am. I'm Orel Maresk."

"Er, hello. I thought I knew most of Harry and Ron's friends." Mrs. Weasley shook his proffered hand.

"Oh, I just started attending Hogwarts this year. Situation was a bit out of my control, actually. What brings you all here?"

"Mr. Weasley was attacked by some creature last night. He's here at St. Mungo's recovering," Ginny explained.

"Ah, that explains it. If you don't mind, I'd like to tag along, even if I don't get to meet him. I've got hours before my appointment with the Mediwitch assigned to my _case_."

"He's up in the Beast Related Injuries ward, children. And of course you can come along. We'll see if you can see him." Molly just smiled at the slight boy that could give Harry a run for undersizedness.

Soon they were taken up into the ward that Arthur Weasley was being kept in. Orel was introduced and then promptly relegated to the back of the bunch. It was obvious that Arthur had been seriously wounded last night. Which meant that Harry's scar was more interesting than Orel had previously surmised.

"And that poor fellow got himself bit by a werewolf," Arthur was explaining.

Absently, Orel replied conversationally with, "I hope he gets cured soon." Suddenly, he found himself at the center of attention of everyone in the room.

"Orel, are you daft? There's no cure for lycanthropy!" Ron remarked bluntly.

"You don't have a cure for it? How... remarkable."

Harry was looking at Orel closely. "You know a cure for it, don't you? You do!" Hope had bloomed in his eyes.

"I understand how its done, but I've never cured anyone myself. I do know the spell and the ritual. Just in case. Removing curses is far too useful and I _had_ thought that it might be what cured my own problem." Orel just shrugged his shoulders.

"It's an infection! Even I remember that much," Ron explained bluntly.

"Of course it is, but it's a cursed infection. You can't cure it until you remove the curse. Lycanthropy isn't easy to remove, either. It takes someone who really knows what he's doing and has a lot of power behind him. Or her, of course."

Harry gulped convulsively. "You could try, couldn't you? I mean, you'd be willing to try, wouldn't you?"

"I suppose so. I take it you know someone that is infected?"

Harry just nodded his head. That was all he could say.

Molly and Arthur just shared a quick glance with each other. Trying to be casual about it, Arthur asked, "When could you try?"

Orel started to count on his fingers. "In about a week, I think. That's the next full moon."

"Why is the full moon important?" Ginny asked curiously.

"You _do _have to confront the beast. You and the patient both. I'd suggest very thick, heavy chains myself. It can be a bit tricky to cast the spell while fighting for your life."

Everyone laughed uncertainly at that, even as the kids were escorted out so that Mad Eye Moody and Tonks could have a private discussion about what had happened the night before.

Whatever George, Fred and Harry overhead must have not been pleasant though. The looks the twins were giving Harry were very thoughtful and Harry looked like someone had just told him his pet had died.

-

"My name is Remus Lupin," the gaunt man said as he shook Orel's hand in the entranceway of Number 12 Grimauld Place.

"Filty half humans and mudblooods, polluting the honored house of Black!" a painting suddenly screamed as some curtains suddenly flew open. Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins just winced as the painting built up its torrent of insults.

Another haggard man came down the hall shouting, "Shut up! Shut up, you old hag!"

"Is this painting bothering you?" Orel asked nonchalantly.

The black-haired man stuffed the curtain over the painting again. "Yes. Always. And it's using some sort of ever-lasting sticking charm. It's been impossible to remove it."

"Is there anything important on the other side of that wall?" the foreigner asked casually.

"Er, not really-"

"_Destructivius!_" Oren suddenly shouted out, his wand emitting a green ray that struck the painting. With a crack of displaced air, most of the wall disappeared. The house groaned alarmingly. "Oops.

Remus and the unnamed gentlemen reacted with alacrity, quickly conjuring several stout, wooden beam to hold up the house.

"Orel..." Harry rasped out, his face pale and very drawn.

"Yes, Harry?"

"What was that spell?"

"A disintegration spell. I misjudged a bit on how much wall it would take out."

"Its not _the _killing spell, Harry," Ginny said softly as she laid her hand on his arm.

"_The_ killing spell?" Orel asked.

"I'm sure that is a _very_ fine discussion, but if you are finished destroying parts of my house, we'll retire to the kitchen for a snack."

"Sorry, Sirius. I think Orel was trying to help," Harry said.

"Well, I can't blame him for using such a dangerous spell on that painting. I know _I've_ been tempted to at some times. But I'm a bit less impetuous than that," Sirius said with a grin.

"Ha!" Remus exclaimed. "Admit it! You just didn't think about exploding it."

"I won't. Admit it, I mean. Though it did silence the old hag finally. _Kreacher!_" the dark-haired man bellowed.

With a snap, a very bent over form appeared in the hallway. "Nasty master calls so Kreacher so Kreacher must come as ordered," the strange house-elf muttered darkly, seemingly ignoring everyone. His eye blinked as he took in the missing wall. With a wail, he cried out, "The Mistress! What did you do?"

"She seems to have been _disintegrated_," Sirius said smugly. "But it seems to have left us bereft a wall. So it needs shoring up until we can rebuild it. Keep the house from falling down. That's an order."

With that, he led them down to the kitchen. Molly looked up from the stove. "What was that racket? Was it that nasty painting again?"

"It was!" Sirius exclaimed cheerfully.

The older woman just blinked at his sudden cheer. "I take it there is some good out of that?"

"Yes!" the owner of the house cheered loudly. "Harry's new friend solved our portrait problem!"

"I have a name, you know!" Orel said in a disgruntled tone.

"Orel, right?" Molly turned back to Sirius. "And how did he solve it?"

"He vaporized it!" Ron exclaimed loudly. He thumped loudly into a seat, a wide grin on his face.

Orel mouthed the word 'vaporized' to himself. It didn't seem to be a word he was familiar to him. "I think a closer term would be 'dusted' it, actually. That spell only leaves a miniscule amount of dust behind. No vapor involved."

Harry laughed at the astonished expressions of the adults. "Orel is still learning some of the trickier parts of English, Mrs. Weasley," Harry explained. He seemed to be in a better mood since the discovery at St. Mungos.

"Mr. Lupin? Where would you like the curse-breaking to happen?" Orel asked. "I'd suggest some place with a bit of room and where you are not worried about breaking some things."

"Arthur said you needed to confront the beast during the full moon?" the one-time professor said a bit timidly.

The brown-haired boy nodded. "Yes."

"Then I think this room would be best. We can remove the table and dresser there and that leaves a solid room..." he said, trailing off.

"In case you break free. I would recommend a few people trained with trapping spells. Just in case. Were you able to find any strong chains and locks?" the young student asked.

"Not yet. The chains I had from before I would not trust," Remus said with a shrug.

"Why don't you go to the hardware store? Muggles make _very_ good chains and you can just walk in and purchase them. Buy some muggle padlocks too," Harry said as he thought hard. Anything to make him forget about what he had heard.

-

Later that day, Orel had to admit that Muggles made good chains and _really_ good locks. While magic could literally do just about anything, the sciences that Muggles used were really top notch. Non-magical fireballs were an intriguing idea that he must investigate at a later time.

He clinked a hammer against the chains. "I'd say they are strong enough," he mused aloud.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Supposedly strong enough to tow a very large truck, so I'd hope so. But that isn't for a week. Let's go down to the sitting room where people are starting to decorate for the holiday."

"I guess," Orel replied.

The next day, the Dalelander watched everyone else being festive, though he thought that putting the red and white festive hats and faux white beards on the heads of the house-elves was quite creepy.

"Orel? Would you be willing to teach that ritual for removing the curse from a werewolf?" Hermione asked. She had just shown up a few hours ago. Obviously Harry had told her about curing Remus.

"Sure. Is there any particular reason you want to learn it?" he asked.

"It's going to be a history making spell here in the wizarding world. I might even be able to write a book about this later!"

-

"Would you like an autograph? I learned conjoined writing just for this!" the daft fellow said, holding up a paper. His blond hair was a bit a mess.

Orel, Harry, Ron and Ginny had wandered off in search of refreshments. How they had run into this fellow out of his room was quite a mystery.

"I'm sorry? Who are you?" Orel asked blithely.

"This is Professor Lockhart. He taught Defense Against the Dark Arts a couple of years ago. A spell he cast backfired on him and left him like this." Harry was trying not to laugh.

"Oh, you naughty young man. Come along," a frazzled mediwitch said as she appeared through a door in the stairwell. "Oh, do you people know Professor Lockhart? He gets so few visitors. It may help him recover his wits a little better if more people like you visited."

With that, they were trundled off into the ward for spell damage victims. Orel listened to her natter on about her different wards. He occupied his time looking over the pretty flowers that people had delivered for the holidays. One fellow had a whole plethora of flowers He just shook his head in amazement. Such a great variety.

Suddenly he stiffened. "Harry, could you come over and take a look at this?"

"Sure, Orel. What's up?" Harry wandered over. It looked like he had finally regained a bit of his sense of humor.

"You know I've been trying to catch up on all my courses, right? Didn't Professor Sprout say that one was dangerous?" The Dalelander was pointing at a small vine in a pot.

"Yes, but I doubt they'd... That's a Devil Snare!" Harry snapped out suddenly.

"That's what I thought-" Orel tried to reply.

Harry grabbed it and threw it across the room to smash against the wall.

"Young man! What do you think you are doing?" shouted the Mediwitch.

"That's a Devil Snare! Someone slipped it into the flowers here!" Harry shouted.

"What? Nonsense!" she snapped back.

"Look!" Orel shouted.

The Devil Snare was trying to crawl across the floor towards the nearest person, which happened to be Ginny. She yelped in surprise and backed away. "How did that get in here?" she cried out.

Suddenly the door slammed open, waking even more patients. "What is going on here?" yelled a big thick man with almost no neck.

"Healer Hendwicks, these children are trying to claim someone sent Mr. Bode a Devil Snare! That's totally preposterous and they then smashed the plant against the wall." The mediwitch was quite shrill with her accusations.

Hendwicks looked at the plant closely. "It _is_ a Devil Snare." He plucked the card for it out of the shattered remains of the pot it had been in. "I'm afraid you are all going to have to stay here until the Aurors show up. It appears someone _was _trying to kill Mr. Bode."

It was several hours before they were released, but the Aurors posted a body guard. It seemed the wizard was some sort of special operative, an Unspeakable... that worked in a very strangely, yet aptly, named Department of Mysteries.

-

The beast snapped at Orel, snarling with no human intelligence or cunning. "Not very pretty," the young Dalelander said casually. "But those chains do seem to work very well. Is everyone ready?" They were in the cleared living room, with the werewolf chained to a large and sturdy wooden chair.

Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione nodded, while Tonks and Sirius watched the chained up werewolf closely. Ground wolfsbane powder was charring in incense holder. Orel started chanting, his fingers dancing in arcane gestures. Minutes passed as his voice continued strong.

Suddenly, Remus started howling and thrashing. Harry gripped his fists tighter. "Come on, Remus. Fight it," he muttered. The young wizard had explained that it still took effort and will of the infected to throw off the curse. But, Orel had noted, Remus was no longer a seven year old child but a full wizard in his own right.

Shockingly, Remus started to revert to his human form while Orel continued chanting, though his voice had started to become hoarse. Finally, the chanting stopped.

"I'd say we succeeded, hmm?" Orel said to the crowd. "So, up for a small moonlit stroll?"

Remus suddenly started laughing. "You know, I think I might."

-

The trip back to Hogwarts was on the train again, though Orel thought it wasn't really that efficient. He was startled to discover that trains were actually a muggle invention. And that the Hogwart's Express was actually considered to be an antique in many ways. The reason it was used was because it was cheaper than magic. He hung out with Harry, Ginny, Ron and Neville, sharing stories and the occasional treat.

The evening meal was probably the most surprising one that Harry Potter had in many a year. Sitting at the teacher's table sat a slightly tired looking Remus Lupin, chatting amiably with Hagrid. As more and more students wandered in, Dumbledore stood up.

"Students! It is with great delight that I welcome back Professor Lupin as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. A round of applause, please!" he said with a beaming smile.

"But he's a werewolf!" a Slytherin exclaimed, looking very worried.

"Actually, it is more accurate to say that he is the first person in our world cured of lycanthropy. Which brings up another matter. I would like to award a special one hundred points to Gryffindor for a student that is willing to show old dogs new tricks!" He waited a moment. "I would like to thank Professor Umbridge for her help from the ministry in covering our classes until I could find a suitable replacement. Tuck in!"


	3. To the end of the year!

Harry Potter and the Wizard of Ashenbenford: Part 3

-

Orel was finding that a good teacher in Defense Against the Dark Arts was actually very entertaining. He was currently sitting behind Harry and Hermione. Ron had looked discomfited when they had pushed him out slightly, but had just straightened his shoulders.

"Now we have a lot to make up still at this point. With all the work we'll be doing, you'll wish that I was less nice but you shouldn't be worried about your grades," Professor Lupin stated sharply as the class started. "Now what spells would you use to defend against the Unforgivables?" he finally asked.

"But-" Seamus got out, then stopped. "There is no way to stop the Killing Curse. And you have to have a really powerful will to throw off the Imperious! And the Cruceatus Curse... that can't be stopped either."

Orel raised his hand just as quickly as Hermione and Harry.

Lupin nodded. "Mr. Maresk first."

"Translocative spells!" he called out.

Hermione responded when the teacher called on her with, "Summoning spells to put things between you!"

"Spells to keep your opponent moving, to spoil their aim!" Harry said said with a grin.

Orel raised his hand again, which Lupin acknowledged with a raised eyebrow. "Potions to enhance your willpower or deaden you to pain. Or even make you faster."

"Very, very good! I want all of you to write five feet about means and ways to counter _all_ of the Unforgivable curses-" Professor Lupin cut off his remark as the door the DADA class opened.

"Hem hem," went Inquisitor Umbridge as she waddled in.

"Inquisitor Umbridge. You are little later than I was expecting. I was just assigning the essay and then we were getting to some basic spellwork," the professor said with a cool demeanor.

"Was there something _wrong _with my school plan, Professor Lupin?" she asked in a sickly sweet tone.

"Not at all, Inquisitor. It just doesn't fit my style. I'm much more of a hands on person. Always have been, of course. I just brushed up on my class notes from a few years back and I'm working to get _all_ of my students ready for their OWLs and NEWTs," he replied calmly.

"These children do not need to be taught to cast impractical jinxes and curses of the Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Her smile was turning even more toad-like by the moment.

Lupin looked disconcerted, obviously trying to weigh his words carefully. He was interrupted though.

"Professor Lupin?"

"Yes, Mr. Maresk?" the ex-werewolf said even as he thought frightfully fast.

"I had just been reading the Daily Prophet's medical section and I was wondering about the curses that were used in that fight at the Hogs Head? I understand that the young witch is still in St. Mungos' due to the damage the curse did to her, but they really are being vague about it," Orel asked blandly.

Harry noted that Hermione's eyes were almost twinkling in a mischievous way. "Please do, Professor! I understand it was a very nasty, dark curse that she wasn't able to _defend _herself against the attack that crippled her legs."

"Ahem! I haven't heard of any _fights_ with curses. What nonsense!" Umbridge suddenly said nervously.

"You are right. The fight never made it into the Daily Prophet for some reason..." Orel drawled.

"See? Nothing to those rumors then at all!" the Inquisitor said just a little too quickly, an ugly, smug smile on her face.

"No, for some reason the Auror's were too busy keeping the poor witch from the reporter at St. Mungos. Quite odd, I'd say. You'd think that someone didn't want any news about dark witches or wizards appearing anywhere in print." Orel's was looking directly at her, his tone entirely too bland.

The rest of the class sucked in a breath at that challenge to the High Inquisitor. What _else_ wasn't being printed then?

"It must have not been a very _memorable_ fight then!" she replied, suddenly a bit nervously.

"Oh? The bartender at Hog's Head was saying that it was the biggest brawl in the bar in six years! Vampires, hags and even a veela were involved!" Hermione interjected.

Umbridge almost spun towards the girl. She looked around at all the students that were now watching her very closely.

"I hope I'm able to defend myself if something like that happened while I visit Hogsmeade!" Harry said with just a touch too much force, hiding a smile as much as possible. "Good thing I'm taking DADA!"

The Inquisitor started working her jaw. "Well. Ahem. We will just have to make sure that you are following prescribed teaching lessons."

"The exact same ones that Hogwart's has been using for years!" Lupin said with a smile that did not touch his eyes.

-

Harry walked into the Great Hall, groaning. The dream last night had been vivid. Orel looked up from his book that he was reviewing while eating a piece of toast. "Problems, Harry?"

"Just a dream," the other boy replied testily.

"Considering you look like you just lost a fight with a monk, I think it's a little more than just a dream. But you can talk to me when you want help rather than just push me away," the Dalelander replied back just as testily. He turned back to his book.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Hermione asked as she sat down next to him. The boy mumbled a reply, even as Hermione squeezed his hand. "When you want to talk, I'll be here."

"Finally started dating your mud-blood, Potter?" Draco drawled as he was walking past, his two goons in tow.

"Yes, we are going out," Harry shot back. He settled back down as his girlfriend squeezed his hand in reassurement.

"You know, insulting a man's girlfriend in some cultures is a deathly insult," Orel noted, turning a page. "I've heard of feuds started for less."

Draco just sneered. "And what do you care?"

Orel closed his book and stood up. "I stand by my friends. An insult to them is an insult to myself." His expression was hard and cold.

The three Slytherin boys almost flinched. Draco finally tilted his nose up and walked away.

"Stupid prat," Orel said as he sat back down.

-

"Orel Maresk! A moment of your time, if you don't mind?" called out Professor Trelawny. The professor looked distraught and overcome with emotions.

"In private?" he offered. He waved off Harry and Hermione as they turned towards their next class. They turned off into a disused classroom that might have once taught astronomy. Orel's dark eyes looked over the distraught teacher. "This concerns the High Inquisitor and her attempts to have you removed as a teacher, isn't it?"

Trelawny nodded jerkily. "Yes. While the Inner Eye can not be taught, your divination magic from your lands are very... useful. If I could learn them and then teach them to the students, I could maintain my place at Hogwarts." Her bulbous eyes were near tears, visible through her glasses.

The foreigner looked at her curiously. "I think I could. But I would ask that you owe me a favor in turn."

"Yes, anything!" the teacher said hurriedly.

He nodded in acceptance. "Very well, I think the first thing you should do is learn the basic defensive divination magics." Orel pulled out his wand and cleared off an old table with a wave. "How to divine poisons, undead, secret doors and traps on top of the magical aura detection I've already shown you. How far in your Arithimancy did you get?"

"I managed an Acceptable Owl, though my skill is quite out of practice."

"Good enough. Then we can work on scrying using a mirror and then detecting being scryed upon." His demeanor turned wolfish, the grin almost a snarl. "And we can set up Professor Umbridge. I suggest saving a very impressive divination for when she shows." Orel tapped his chin as he continued writing. "Perhaps you could have the students bring some very mild poisons to class to identify among other potions?"

The tension melted off of the batty professor. "This might work out very well."

-

Harry dragged himself back to the library after another Occulemency lesson, where Ron, Hermione and Orel were working on a homework assignment.

"How did it go?" Hermione whispered, and then, looking concerned at his haggard appearance, asked, "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah- fine- I dunno," said Harry impatiently, wincing as pain shot through his scar again. "Listen- I've just realized something!" And he told them what he had just seen and deduced about the strange door in his dreams.

"So... so are you saying..." whispered Ron, as Madam Pince swept past, squeaking slightly, "that the weapon... the thing You-Know-Who's after... is in the Ministry of Magic?"

Harry nodded.

"Why a weapon? And why these dreams, over and over?" Orel thought aloud. "Harry, you said Snape mentioned that you had a connection? Through your scar?"

"So what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked Ron even as he nodded at Orel's question. "Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?"

"I know they call the people who work in there 'Unspeakables,'" said Ron, frowning. "Because no one really seems to know what they do- weird place to have a weapon."

"It's not weird at all, it makes perfect sense," said Hermione. "It will be something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect... Harry, are you sure you're all right?" For Harry had just run both his hands hard over his forehead as though trying to iron it.

"So it's a secret Ministry run laboratory. It might not be a weapon. It could just be dangerous," Orel murmured to himself.

"Yeah... fine..." he said, lowering his hands, which were trembling. "I just feel a bit... I don't like Occlumency much."

"Describe what you feel, please?" Orel suddenly asked slightly louder, getting a admonishing shush from the librarian.

Harry looked put upon, but finally nodded. "My scar is hurting and I've got a bit of a headache."

Hermione and Orel considered this. Hermione finally said, "Well, I suppose you would feel like that if your brain was being attacked constantly."

"No, that isn't right. He should feel _fatigued_ but not in real pain and his scar that binds him to Voldemort should not be acting up. I think we should make sure that you know enough to learn this Occulemency right. Snape is rubbish as a teacher, never explaining anything he is doing." The Dalelander frowned. "He's almost making it harder on you on purpose. Did you ask any questions on how to do the clearing of your mind?"

"Yes, but he just started saying that I was wearing my emotions too much upon my sleeves like a good Gryffindor and then even accused me of wanting this connection to You-Know-Who!" Harry retorted angrily.

"I know a weaker form of mental reading... Would you mind if Hermione and I helped you with this? It would be terribly useful to be able to mask our thoughts if needed," Orel asked.

Hermione nodded her head forcefully. "Of course we will. But I'm not sure where to get a book that will help."

Orel just gave her an odd look and stood up to walk over to Madam Pince. He came back a few minutes later and answered their querying look with, "She says the book was checked out a week ago by a professor. Any bets that it was Professor Snape?"

Harry shook his head. "But he didn't give me any reading to do. And he's supposed to be very good at Occulemency-"

"So why does he need a book?" Ron asked in confusion.

"Honestly, Ron. He might have needed to refresh his mind on how to teach it," Hermione replied with a huff.

"Or he didn't want someone else to read it to check out his teaching." Orel gave a look to Hermione as if to dare to counter his argument.

"But he's on our side," she replied finally.

"No, he's on the Headmaster's side. He hates us," Orel retorted.

"That's a good point," Harry said slowly. "He barely tolerates us in class." He stood up and started packing his books away he'd barely pulled out.

They were almost back to their common room when Harry experienced a pain so severe he thought that someone must have sliced into the top of his head. He did not know where he was, whether he was standing or lying down, he did not even know his own name.

Maniacal laughter was ringing in his ears... he was happier than he had been in a very long time... jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant... a wonderful, wonderful thing had happened...

"Harry? HARRY!"

He heard chanting and then the insane laughter was punctuated with a pain. The happiness was draining out of him, but the laughter continued...

He opened his eyes and, as he did so, he became aware that the wild laughter was coming out of his own mouth. The moment he realized this, it died away; Harry lay panting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, the scar on his forehead throbbing horribly. Ron was bending over him, looking very worried.

"What happened?'" Ron asked.

"That was a form of possession. He should be fine for now. I enchanted him with a short lived spell to repulse the spirit," Orel explained.

"I... dunno..." Harry gasped, sitting up again. "He's really happy... really happy..."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried hugging him tightly.

Harry felt his throbbing headache dim as he became aware of how close he was being held.

"You-Know-Who is?" Ron asked with a gulp.

"Something good's happened," mumbled Harry. He was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr Weasley and felt very sick. "Something he's been hoping for." He noted dully that there was a ring of silvery powder around him.

"And that can't be good at all for us," Orel noted. "This protection won't last long, but hopefully it broke the connection for now."

And the next morning, the picture of ten Deatheaters proved them right. Broderick Bode was also found murdered in his bed in a buried article, prompting Harry to remember that he was an Unspeakable that worked in the Department of Mysteries.

His gruesome death by poison was quite a mystery. Why would anyone go to that much effort?

-

Orel had found a book on Occulemency and he and Hermione had devoured it. While Snape was technically training him correctly, Orel noted that he was doing it in such a bad way that it was almost useless.

The pair studied the problem and then started training with Harry on other days, in between Quidditch, Occulemency and studying for their OWLs; their days were filling up rapidly. Orel was also still researching magics from his own lands, adapting them to use with his new wand.

That was on top of the rumors and the new decree against teachers discussing anything outside of their classes and teachings. And Umbridge even disbanded all extra-curricular activities, including their now very illegal defense training that everyone decided to keep up, in spite of the High Inquisitor. Or to be more accurately, to spite her even though they had a very competent teacher. It took a week to get the Quidditch team reinstated, but Umbridge really didn't have a good reason to not do so. So she'd finally reinstated all the teams.

Umbridge had also taken to attending Professor Trelawny's class, hoping to trip her up, but the sudden addition of divination magic had her baffled. The minor magic to detect a poison in different cups was far too valuable and most of her students were suddenly very, very interested in making sure they were following her words in class. At least after Ron poisoned himself with a puking and pustules poison.

Poor Hagrid was not doing nearly as well. He wasn't bringing anything more dangerous than a crusp, but he wasn't able to focus on the class past Umbridge's omnipresence. Hermione and Harry both tried to help him, but he really didn't do well under pressure.

Harry was throwing himself into his DA studies in retaliation, teaching everything he could. Orel had been shocked at the transformation of the pudgy Neville Longbottom into a focused terror intent on learning every jinx and counter that Harry was throwing at the group. He got the feeling it had something to do with his parents and some of the escaped convicts, but no one was talking to him about that.

Snape was still teaching Harry as horribly as ever, but under Hermione's and Orel's tutoring, his shields were improving by leaps and bounds. Hermione's opinion of Snape's teaching skills was plummeting; he really was sabotaging Harry's work. They were also picking it up slightly themselves, using a charm that Orel researched that allowed a person to read the mental 'voice' of the target. The professor seemed slightly baffled at Harry's improvement.

And the mind reading charm was very handy, having let them catch a hint or two about something up about Draco's father. He was definitely involved again with the dark lord.

Orel visited Hogsmeade along with Harry and Hermione; they were going on a long over-due date. He had to remind Harry to get her something nice that _she_ liked before he teleported to London. He spent the day at St. Mungos, getting poked and prodded. Once he made it back, Hermione let him in on the secret interview that was going to be published by _The Quibbler._

The Dalelander had taken a minute to check in with the cursed witch that had lost the use of both of her legs. It was the least he could do for the young woman that had let them know how much the Ministry was controlling the Daily Prophet's release of information.

The next week, the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch game was a taut affair, with the Slytherins still singing their 'Weasley is our King' song, but it produced slightly different results than they were expecting, as all it did was make Ron mad and sloppy for a few minutes before he got his head on the game.

Harry caught the snitch fifteen minutes later, letting the Gryffindors have a fairly decisive win. Hermione's kiss raised the boy's spirit immensely.

Then the day after the article came out was quite an eye-opener for the double-duo. The High Inquisitor banned the lot of them from Hogsmeade during the school year, which just caused Orel to roll his eyes. He'd been going to Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, not Hogsmeade when he had to go to St. Mungos. He'd had bought the book on Occulemency on one of those trips.

Hermione couldn't stop beaming a smile after the toad-like woman banned _The Quibbler _from the school. As she was wont to say, "This just made everyone want to read it even more." She was proven correct, as the periodical was now _the_ hottest item to read in the school, though it was jinxed to always appear as something else when Umbridge showed up.

After the celebration held in the Gryffindor common room due to the High Inquisitor's bungling, Harry finally wandered up to bed with a blinding headache. He woke up Orel, who had gone to bed earlier, screaming "NOOOOOOOOO!"

"What?" called out Ron as he was getting ready for bed.

"It's another vision I bet," Orel said softly as he sat up.

Harry flailed around madly, became entangled in the hangings and fell out of his bed.

"Will you stop acting like a maniac so I can get you out of here!" Ron wrenched the hangings apart and Harry stared up at him in the moonlight, flat on his back, his scar searing with pain. "Has someone been attacked again?' asked Ron, pulling Harry roughly to his feet. "Is it Dad? Is it that snake?"

"No... everyone's fine..." gasped Harry, whose forehead felt as though it were on fire. "Well... Avery isn't... he's in trouble... he gave him the wrong information... Voldemort's really angry."

"Harry, he shouldn't be able to get past your Occulemency shields. I think we are going to have to try something different to block him out. This isn't working," Orel said. He cast the charm to detect thoughts, not getting far into Harry's mind before he was blocked.

"So all that effort was for nothing?" Harry said, almost crying from the pain and frustration he was feeling.

"No, I think it's a very useful skill, but for keeping Voldemort out of your head, it's not the right lock. And I don't think it has anything to do with your own skill or effort."

The next morning, they went over Harry's dream and Orel's theory in a corner of the courtyard, which Hermione had to finally agree to the fact that Harry's Occulemency wasn't failing, it was just not the right way to block him out.

Then Harry mentioned the fact that Sturgis had been forced to try to open the door to the Department of Mysteries, which was surprising. This brought them all back to the other person involved in the Dept. of Mysteries, Bode. The only thing that Orel wondered about, was why the Broderick Bode, an Unspeakable, wasn't able to get the weapon or tell them how; that he was unable to access it without addling his mind.

"I think there's more to this we've been told," Orel finally said. "Perhaps only certain people can access the weapon or secret. Not just any Unspeakable."

"You could be right," Hermione said, thinking hard.

"Now we have to figure something else out to block the scar," Orel complained as he stared up into the sky.

"Well, I am able to tell that it wasn't my own dream at least, so that's something," Harry said in explanation.

"I'm just worried that Voldemort will be able to actually reach through the connection and attack or charm you, Harry." The Dalelander frowned in thought. "We'll have to look at crafting an amulet with some wards I know. It won't stop him from reading your mind, but it will stop him from exerting mental control over you."

"Mate, I'd want one of those for myself!" Ron said with a laugh.

"That's not a bad idea. You'll use that charm you cast on Harry that other night as the basis?" Hermione asked.

"Right," Orel explained. He and Hermione started going over the enchantments that would be needing, though Harry tried to hide his jealousy as much as possible.

The rest of the week went horribly for Harry, as it was quite obvious that he was worried about Hagrid and his potion scores. Snape was once again shocked at how strong Harry's Occulemency was becoming, demanding to know if he was using any potions or other charms, which Harry denied. He was able to keep Snape out most of the time.

Other than that, nothing else came of the evening, as Harry was able to hide the fact that he was still having dreams from the professor.

At the end of the week, Orel had a silver and onyx amulet for him to wear. The dreams still came, but Harry was no longer feeling compelled by the feelings of want and curiosity within the dream.

The fact that there _had_ been some sort of compulsion worried them. These dreams were not random.

-

The DA was meeting again, going over the _Patronius_ charm which some people were having a problem manifesting. Harry had decided that this spell was imperative to learn, as the Dementors of Azkaban were likely not under the control of the Ministry. They had pared down to a core group, as several had dropped off after Lupin became the DADA teacher.

Orel was finding it very hard to come up with a really happy memory and was seriously looking at researching a different spell. From the description of the Dementors, they had the appearance of undead, so he was thinking of specific positive energy spells to bring up. He'd only gotten the filmiest of the silver mists to appear out of his wand when the door was opened. Harry looked over and finally spotted the strange House Elf; Dobby.

Harry finally extracted from Dobby's incoherent words that High Inquisitor Umbridge was planning on catching them doing 'something incriminating' and he sent the House Elf off. Harry then shouted for everyone to run.

"Stop!" Orel bellowed. "That's a stupid reaction." He looked over the group. "Quickly! Everyone gather. As soon as I cast an invisibility charm, head off to your dorms." He started to rapidly cast the charm, starting with the more frantic students first. After about ten students, Hermione and Harry joined in, casting the spell with varying success.

By the time Orel was ready to cast the spell upon himself, he was sweating profusely. His hand was shaking fiercely. "No, not now. This is rotten timing." The sick student then collapsed, twitching uncontrollably.

"Hermione, I'll take Orel. I think he's about to have another fit," Harry ordered even as she cast the invisibility charm on herself. The door then opened with a bang. He heard Hermione gasp, but she was quite invisible. He shook his head in her direction, to let her know that she shouldn't do anything.

High Inquisitor Umbridge and a few Slytherin prefects entered the Room of Requirement, taking in the training mats, dark wizard detectors and other sundry items of a dedicated classroom to teach defense against the dark arts. That was when she heard Orel's heels slapping against the floor. Orel's fit was starting to pass.

"Harry Potter! Well, this is just perfect!" the toad-like woman said with a twisted smile. "You will come with me to the headmaster's office to discuss this breach of rules. Help him up and we'll be on our way."

Orel listened muzzily to Marietta Edgecombe betrayal of the DA in the headmaster's office, though for some reason she wouldn't or could not speak after just a bit. It might have been related to Hermione's jinx on the paper they signed, but he had thought that was just for the sores on her face. Umbridge suddenly revealed the list of Hogwarts' students that were part of 'Dumbeldore's Army,' which the headmaster accepted full responsibility for, forcing a fight in the headmaster's office between Dumbledore and Minister Fudge and his Aurors. The bright lights and amazing speed of Dumbledore were shocking, but he still fled after winning using his Phoenix to translocate out after a quick discussion with his deputy.

McGonnagal then escorted Orel, Harry and Marrietta out after Umbridge and the Aurors awoke and went rushing down the stairs thinking that Dumbledore had fled on foot. Harry helped the woozy Dalelander down the spiraling steps.

"You, boy, why did you not inform me of Dumbledore' plan?" the toad-like woman snarled at Orel when she spotted them just a moment later. "The Minister of Magic is going to be very upset at your betrayal!"

Orel glared at her, though his weakened condition lost most of the force of his anger. "It was not Dumbledore's plan."

"But the paper with the name of Dumbledore's Army? That could not be a coincedence!" she retorted.

"No, that was picked because it would tweak you, and the Minister's, sensibilities... by the _students _when they were not being trained to defend themselves.I told them it was a stupid name, but they voted to select that name. I _bet_ they are regretting that now," he retorted. "Oh, I do believe that resisting arrest is illegal, so Dumbledore just broke the law."

Harry goggled at the shorter boy. He was telling her that now? Umbridge seemed to think the same thing.

"Are you trying to be funny?" she asked dangerously.

"No, but you wanted to be informed whenever Dumbledore made an illegal move against the Ministry, so I'm informing you now."

"And his actions before hand?" she screeched out, her thick wands shaking in her hand.

"I'm not aware of any illegal actions he's taken before today. I don't even understand why he decided to accept the blame up there," Orel replied seriously. After all, preparing to defend yourself against a Dark Lord wasn't illegal, he noted to himself.

"Get out of here!" she screamed.

Harry just shook his head as he helped his dorm-mate back to the Gryffindor common room. "You like to live dangerously, don't you?"

"Harry, I really didn't care about the Ministry's antics before, but now they've made me an enemy by their actions. They shall reap what they've sowed," the sick wizard vowed. "I won't rest until I've gotten my revenge upon Umbridge."

The Boy-That-Lived winced. And with Orel's temper, who knows when that would happen.

-

The next few weeks turned vicious as Umbridge was named Headmistress, though she had to use a new office as Dumbledore's was closed off to everyone. She revoked all of the Prefects and instituted an Inquisitorial staff, made of only Slytherins that were loyal to her. Some students, notably Fred, George and Jordan started to rebel against Umbridge and the Inquisitors Juniors. The rest of the school joined in quickly as she in turn started to hand out new decrees.

It was turning out to be a war and Umbridge was losing badly, as most of the teachers were avoiding any sign of helping her. Even though the DA was basically defunct, Orel was more than willing to give out some of his more interesting spells.

Advanced illusions started to bedevil Hogwarts alongside magical fireworks, marauding nifflers in Umbridges office, stinkbombs, dungbombs and other sundry tricks. Umbridge couldn't seem to handle anything and her Inquisitors started to suffer dangerous mishaps and ended up in the infirmary on a regular basis. Her office, locked and sealed, was broken into so regularly that she had a guard troll posted outside.

That didn't do a thing to stop Fred, George and their friend Lee from opening a dimension door after levitating invisibly to her window from outside of the castle, however.

School continued, even Harry's 'remedial potions,' though between Orel and Hermione; Harry's potions and Occulemency were very solid. Then, suddenly, Harry said that Snape didn't think he needed any more lessons, which Orel and Hermione didn't argue with, though they knew there was more to it than that. Hermione kept at Harry (as gently as possible) to continue expanding his Occulemency, as the books Orel had bought said they were only half way through the training.

The very next potions class, Hermione _and_ Orel both knew something was up, as Snape was pointedly ignoring Harry as if he didn't even exist. The Dalelander immediately used this to his advantage, as Harry and he were both left free to brew their potions with freedom.

Orel had been experimenting with dragon's blood, as he had a few suspicions about its uses and the alchemist Nicholas Flamel, who was a good friend of Albus Dumbledore. When he was able to purify the blood into a crystal, he smiled thinly. He pocketed the stone the size of a small fleck of blood. After potions, he grabbed Harry and pulled him to his side.

"Harry? I want your first impression of something I've been working on," Orel said casually. He turned to his side and cast an enlarging charm upon something in his hand, increasing his purified dragon blood to the size of a small pebble. "What do you think this is?"

The tussle-haired boy frowned, but then blinked in astonishment. "That _looks_ like a sorceror's stone. But that's impossible. Dumbledore destroyed it!"

"Yes, he did. I've been working with dragon's blood for a while, as it was something that he was working with on with his old mentor, Flamel. Strangely, no one had thought to try and purify dragon's blood to its most magical basics... an opaque red crystal." Orel smirked. It had taken many hours of reading in the library to get all the pieces together.

"You can _make_ a sorceror's stone?" Harry exclaimed in shock.

"Well, I think I can, but it looks like I need a huge, purified cauldron filled with dragon's blood to even make a decently sized one. But this might be a way to possibly save my life... if I can come up with several thousand galleons to spend on it." Orel sighed. "It's too bad you really don't have any monster lands or ancient ruins from fallen civilizations. This world really is far too explored."

"Well, perhaps in the wilderness of Africa or the Americas. But that's a long journey."

"So, Harry? When were you going to let us know that you got in trouble with Snape?" Orel asked casually as he pocketed his experiment.

Harry glared, but nodded in resignation. "He banned me after I did something. And I can't really say I blame him." Then he wouldn't say anything more to Orel.

-

Orel was reading a pamphlet with a confused expresion. 'HAVE YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO TRAIN SECURITY TROLLS?' This career counseling was probably one of the silliest things he'd ever heard of. He was on a quest to save his life from a magical ailment, not a useless dead-end job.

"Hey," said a voice. Harry looked round; Fred and George had come to join them. "Ginny's had a word with us about you after the last Quidditch game," said Fred, stretching out his legs on the table in front of them and causing several booklets on careers with the Ministry of Magic to slide off on to the floor. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" said Hermione sharply, freezing with her hand halfway towards picking up, 'MAKE A BANG AT THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS AND CATASTROPHES.'

"Yeah..." said Harry, trying to sound casual, "yeah, I thought I'd like-"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione, straightening up and looking at him as though she could not believe her eyes. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George, stretching and smiling. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's revision, too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

He gave Hermione a sanctimonious little nod. She looked rather taken aback by this thoughtfulness.

"But its business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued briskly. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat with Sirius?"

Orel sighed. "Or how about us teleporting there in five minutes and Harry can have a small chat, instead of a reckless and dangerous plan that will likely get you two expelled?"

"Oh, but that's not nearly so fancy and fun!" George complained.

"You two sound like you are trying to get expelled," the Dalelander noted.

"Well," Fred said, sharing a quick glance with his twin. "We sort of are, actually."

"You do realize the worst thing you could do to Umbridge would be to pass your NEWTs with high marks, right?" he mentioned casually.

Harry grinned at that. "He's got a point. She'd hate to admit that your grades were good despite not being controlled by the Ministry."

"But we skivved off all of our revising," the twins exclaimed. "Bloody hell," Fred then complained.

"Now we have a whole lot of studying to do," his twin remarked sorrowfully.

Hermione just started laughing at their expressions. "You'd better remember this, Ron. You don't want to be like this in two years."

"Hey!" he protested.

-

Harry, Hermione and Orel appeared within the kitchen of Number 12 Grimauld Place with a soft pop. "Let's not take too long and just find Sirius," Orel said. He walked up the stairs, with Harry and Hermione following him up. So he was quite surprised to find himself blasted with a stunning hex as he turned the corner.

"Orel!" Harry cried out even as he pulled out his wand.

Sirius Black blinked in surprise at his godson. "Harry? I thought I heard someone moving around!" Sirius then smiled. "I guess I did hear someone moving around. Er, sorry about stunning your friend. How exactly did you get here anyways?"

"Orel teleported us." Hermione suddenly grinned, even as she awoke him with a charm. "While you may not be able to apparate into or out of Hogwarts, other translocative spells work perfectly fine. Ore's been teaching us, though I haven't mastered this long range teleport."

"That was mean and uncalled for," Orel complained as he sat up. "But my own fault. I should have expected you to be twitchy. All right, Harry, you can have your talk with your godfather. I'm going to grab a snack."

After a very disagreeable meeting punctuated with blood-purity put-downs with the House Elf Kreacher, Orel only had time to eat one sandwich and some pumpkin juice before Harry and Hermione came back down.

"Really, Harry, why didn't you use the mirror?"

"I forgot. I think I suppressed it when you made that comment about Sirius living vicariously through me and then it just kind went out there somewhere," Harry replied uncomfortably.

Hermione's expression changed to horror. "Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I didn't mean to keep you from talking, just to, well, explain where Sirius is coming from." She sniffled a little bit. "You must think I'm awful, suggesting not talking to your godfather and letting him be a part of your life."

"No, I don't think that. I was hurt earlier... but I realized you were correct too. And I didn't want to get him caught. Fudge would just have the Dementor's kiss him," he replied looking uncomfortable. He was fidgeting like he wanted to do something to relieve Hermione's anguish.

"Dementors. Nasty creatures those. I bet they are a form of undead. Wouldn't surprise me that their 'kiss' is actually how they create new Dementors." Orel scowled at that thought. He still wasn't able to get much further on his _Patronius_ because of his block. Did he really have no happy memories of any worth?

Harry frowned, going over the information he knew on the monsters. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Most people just destroy soul-sucking monsters on general principle. The more I hear about your Ministry, the less I like it," the foreigner said.

Hermione nodded in agreement, looking sad. "It is far too true. It is just horrible the things I hear."

"Well, let's get back to Hogwarts before we are missed. What classroom should we use that nobody will be in?" the brown-haired boy asked.

Harry produced an odd piece of paper. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good!" he said with a flourish while tapping the paper. "It looks like the 5th year boy's dorm is clear right now."

"Now that's right handy!" Orel said, very impressed. With a pop, the three students appeared back in the castle.

-

Hermione and Orel were sitting up in the Quidditch stands, cheering the Gryffindors on as they contested against Ravenclaw in the last game of the year. That was when Hagrid carefully sidled up to Hermione and asked her to follow him. Orel just followed along curiously, though Hermione did have to vouch for him.

Hagrid was explaining that the centaurs were very upset and why the presence of his weapon was needed.

"Do you mind if I cast an invisibility spell, then?" Orel offered. "If they don't see us, they aren't likely to get as upset."

"Now at's a right good idea," Hagrid said. Once they got sorted out and holding hands so they wouldn't get lost, Hagrid led them deeper into the forest.

That was where they were introduced to Hagrid's half-brother, the full giant Grawp. After nearly scaring Hermione to death, she promised that she would see about keeping an eye on him if the Care of Magical Creatures professor got fired.

They turned themselves invisible and headed back to Hogwarts, just in time to see Ron being carried back to the castle to the resounding cheer of, "Weasley is our King!"

"I somehow think that Ron finally over came that block on his playing skill," Orel noted.

"He wasn't that bad last game," Hermione said in defense of her friend.

"No, but he wasn't at ease or on the top of his game. Good for him! I guess he took my words to heart and used that righteous anger against the Slytherins instead of letting them fluster him!"

But that was the last reprieve before OWLs. They seemed to barely have enough time to let Ron and Harry know about Grawp. Everyone then buckled down to study, especially Hermione. Ron was starting to get worried and really was looking at the potions and draughts that were being offered to enhance people's concentration.

"They are all a load of rubbish. None of them work!" Hermione said to Ron hotly, while Harry watched on with amusement.

"Really? You don't have the equivalent of potions of cunning?" Orel asked. "It's pretty much the same magic as my headband in potion form."

The bushy-haired girl opened her mouth, stopped to think a moment, then glared a second. "Well it wouldn't be fair. It would be cheating!"

"You _are_ right. Using items during the exams is considered cheating. Taking a potion _before_ the exam is not. Nor is enchanting yourself!" Orel was just grinning.

"But not everyone knows about how to cast that," she responded weakly.

"Yet! I'm sure after this year, it will become very popular!" he said cheekily. "Besides, you still have to _know_ your school work. It doesn't magically put the information in your head. It just allows you to use that knowledge slightly better," he noted.

"I suppose..." Hermione looked conflicted.

"Would you be able to teach us that charm? I don't think we have enough time to brew enough of those potions," Harry asked while thinking aloud. He was obviously thinking over his chances to become an Auror, which required a very high grade in Potions.

"Sure. It's really not that tough of a charm. There's actually several variations. Ones that make you more personable; another that makes you stronger or more nimble. And so on. It should last long enough to get past the tests." (1)

"Strength? That doesn't seem that useful," Ron noted disparagingly. "Why both with your strength when you can just magic things around."

"You cast it on your non-magical warrior friends, Ron. It can push a topnotch warrior into the realms of superhuman feats if needed. And being nimble is very, very handy!"

-

The tension on the 5th years students was increasing exponentially. Students started buckling under the pressure due to the stress and lack of sleep. All of them studied frantically, going over all of their notes. Orel was had his own advantages, but had his own disadvantages also. Having to go over years of studying that he wasn't at Hogwarts was being terribly brutal, but he could do most of the spells.

He figured he'd be lucky to pass with Acceptable in anything.

They were handed their exam schedules for Monday. When the examiners showed up, everyone's tension doubled. Charms, creatures, defense and history, all across the week crushed the 5th years.

The most exciting thing that happened during the exams was actually during Astronomy, when they were being tested at night. Headmistress and High Inquisitor Umbridge attempted to arrest Hagrid just as they were finishing up their test. Hagrid managed to flee, but when Professor McGonnagal was downed by a stunner and a leg-breaker hex, Hermione had held back enough.

She opened a dimensional doorway down to the side of her head of house, even as she cried out, "Professor!"

Dawlish blinked. "It's not possible to apparate at Hogwarts!"

"Hermione Granger! You are interfering in official business!" Umbridge scathingly called out as she waddled over.

"She didn't even have her wand out! And why did you bring Aurors for _firing_ a teacher! He wasn't a criminal!" the bushy-haired girl shouted back as she held her favorite teacher's head up off the ground, tears in her eyes.

Harry, Ron and Orel appeared with a snap near her. "We need to get her to the hospital wing," the raven-haired boy said. With a wave of his wand, McGonnagal floated up.

"That's not possible!" the lead Auror exclaimed again. He even attempted to apparate just five feet, not moving at all.

"Er, don't ask me!" Ron said, following Harry and Hermione quickly back up to the school's main entrance.

"And what about you, boy?" Umbridge sneered at Orel who was watching her and her people.

"We are just worried about Professor McGonnagal. I hope _that_ isn't illegal yet," he snapped back. "But at the rate you are going, I'm sure it will be." He was surprised to note that a few of the Aurors had the decency to look abashed at that. With a final pop, he disappeared.

-

After their final exam on history, Harry looked very agitated after they were back in the yard outside. "Sirius is in danger," he whispered to Hermione and Ron. He quickly explained how he had fallen asleep during class.

"How do you know, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.

The tussle-haired boy was very agitated. "I had another vision and Sirius was being tortured by Voldemort when I passed out during the test!" He was rubbing his forehead, as if he could massage his scar into inactivity.

"Harry, where is your amulet?" Orel asked casually. He was slipping his headband back on.

"Oh, I took it off so that no one would accuse me of cheating." He had been working very hard over not being expelled or invalidating his schooling.

The Dalelander and Hermione sighed. Orel pulled out his wand and cast a spell on Harry. "That better?"(2)

Harry blinked, then frowned as he pulled out his wand. "That... he was altering my emotions again. I can feel that he was changing things now. Lowering my suspicions and increasing my worry and fear of Sirius. _Accio amulet!"_ After the amulet appeared, he settled it back on his neck.

"What ever you do, Harry, _don't_ take off that amulet. It can only block external control while you wear it. You are technically charmed right now. So the moment you take it off, it will start affecting you," the Dalelander explained.

"Right, you explained that before. Now I'm conflicted. Is Sirius really in danger?" Harry asked. His brow was creased heavily.

"Call him on your mirror, Harry. It's the only way to be sure." Hermione seemed very determined.

They all trooped up to his dorm and watched as he pulled out the hidden mirror, activating it. "Sirius? Are you there? Are ayou all right?" He waited a minute, but the person that answered was surprising. "Kreacher? What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Kreacher heard nasty, filthy half-bloods asking for nasty blood-traitor. But he's no longer here. He's been taken!" the crazed elf said, then blanked out the mirror.

"I've got to-" the Boy-Who-Lived started to say when he was interrupted.

"-think a second." Orel said coldly while thinking very, very hard. "Did that seem odd to you?" He looked over to Ron and Hermione, then Harry.

"It was," Hermione finally said. "Kreacher loves to berate us and call us mean names. That was very abrupt."

"Yeah, it was like he was trying to get rid of us," Ron noted.

"And Kreacher hates all of you?" the Dalelander asked.

Harry was nodding. "Orel, could you take us Grimauld Place again?"

"Ah. Time to check his story? All right, put your hands on my shoulder," Orel ordered. Just as he was about to cast his spell, the door opened.

"Wait!" Ginny called out. "We were just on our way to warn you that Umbridge was searching for you. But if you are leaving, we want to come with you, just to make sure everything is all right." Behind her, Luna Lovegood and Neville nodded.

"But-"

"Harry, it would be churlish to refuse their offer. They are choosing to stand behind you. And we'd better leave. Grab a hold of a hand," Orel ordered. With a pop of displaced air, they appeared in the kitchen of Grimauld Place.

"You aren't supposed to be here!" screeched Kreacher, just before Orel stunned him.

"Orel?! Why did you do that?" Hermione exclaimed loudly.

"He doesn't trust Kreacher. And neither do I. Something is up," Harry said, even as he moved up the stairs while levitating the elf behind him. He was just at the hallway where Mrs. Black's portrait used to reside when Sirius appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" the startled escaped convict asked. He was carrying bloody bandages in his hands.

"Checking on you, of course. I've just been receiving these awful visions that you were captured by Voldemort and being tortured to get something from the Department of Mysteries," the young man said with abject relief in his voice.

"No, I've just been stuck here," the older man replied. "Buckbeak was injured and I was tending to his wound."

"Which means Voldemort is planning a trap when we try to 'rescue' you from him there. Harry has been receiving these visions for months. Obviously this has all been planned, but this may be an opportunity," Orel said.

Hermione was nodded. "A chance to trap the trapper. Sirius, how long would it take to get some members of the Order here?"

"Not long at all. Go into the sitting room." The last heir of Black looked much like his name, cold and grim.

-

Dumbledore frowned slightly at the gaggle of children sitting ill at ease, not back at Hogwarts where it was safest. "So you have been having these dreams for months now? And you didn't bother to mention this fact?"

"Snape knew about it, calling my inability to block out these dreams to be a failure on my learning Occulemency. Which, professor, is pure hogwash. Hermione and Orel read over several books and have been helping me greatly. While my shields aren't perfect, they aren't weak," Harry explained hotly.

"It's a soul link, not a mind link. Occulemency can only block the mental powers of that connection, not the link to his soul due to that curse mark," the Dalelander explained. "Is there a problem, Professor?" he asked when Dumbledore's gaze bore into him. He raised his markedly weak Occulemency shields. They were still better than nothing.

"How did you come to this supposition?" Dumbledore asked, even as the other order members present blinked in astonishment. Tonks and Sirius then just shared a confused look. Moody was staring at Orel with distaste and suspicion.

"It's the distance. Pure mental powers could not work without eye contact and at such distances. But soul bonds can," he explained.

"And with Orel's amulet to block his ability to manipulate my mind, I can tell he's trying to force me to act rashly," Harry explained. He expelled a breath, the continued. "And as long as I'm awake, he can't even do that much."

"So if he thinks that Harry is being pushed into acting rashly because of his dreams and Kreacher's betrayal, then we have an opportunity to trap him. This is a golden chance!" Hermione said. Kreacher was now bound up in the strongest magic that Sirius and Dumbledore could conjure up due to his actions.

"The Order will handle this. You should all return to Hogwarts now," the ex-headmaster said, still not looking at Harry directly. "Kreacher will be sent off with modified memories that you are rushing to Sirius's aid. And then we will ambush them ourselves."

"While your goal of protecting us is laudable, I do not think it will work. Voldemort or his minions will be expecting Harry with at _least_ Hermione and Ron. So any plan you have of capturing them must include at least those three. I would like to be included also, as I am combat trained," Orel explained even as Ron winced, but nodded agreement.

"He's right. The Death Eaters will be expecting me," Harry said grimly. Hermione expression was set, she was going to be with her boyfriend no matter what.

"We're in! People have to have noticed we are missing from Hogwarts by now!" Ginny piped up. "So they'll be expecting us all."

Luna just nodded dreamily. "I heard Dark Lords are bad for Nafferty Dinglebuvs."

"Er, what they said!" Neville said, throwing Luna a very strange look.

The Order members pulled a bit away to converse. Finally, after a very quiet, yet heated discussion between Dumbledore and Sirius, they returned.

"I would never ask a child to do something so dangerous," the tired seeming headmaster said finally. "But we are not asking, nor are you small children, are you? And all keeping you at a distance this year is cause problems, it seems. You are correct, that if we attempted a trap without Harry's presence, Voldemort's Death Eaters will likely flee. We must awaken the Wizarding world to his return."

-

They appeared with a pop at the little phone box that led to the Ministry of Magic in the early evening on a strangely deserted Muggle street. Harry dialed the number and declared them a 'rescue party' and they were admitted to the empty entrance hall. Hermione opened her mouth, but then closed it without saying anything. She was obviously thinking that this was too easy, which it was!

"Come on. I'm sure that it's behind the door in my dreams," Harry said loudly.

They crossed the atrium and the statue of races and quickly entered the lift. Harry took them down to the level of the Department of Mysteries, which was the same level he'd been put on trial before.

The door was opened by Harry, leading to a room with many doors leading off into many directions. The room seemed to spin around, confusing everyone. Orel, on the other hand, just pulled out a piece of chalk and starting writing symbols just past the doors.

"What? Chalk is dead useful for dungeoneering?!" he responded at the bemused looks. "Keeps you from getting lost."

Ron snickered. "Your world is weird, mate. Why would go someplace where you might be lost forever?" Luna was pouting airily, she wanted to put up magical writing.

"Treasure, of course! Greed is a powerful, motivating force." Orel had a huge grin.

They then started moving forward, following Harry's dream instructions. They past rooms with arcane hour glasses, where Hermione whispered what Time Turners were to those not in the know. Then a room with floating brains, which Orel warned them could be monsters or worse. Then a large amphitheatre with a stone archway draped in a shroud or veil.

"Goddess of the Weave... that thing radiates necromancy of the highest order!" the Dalelander exclaimed. He'd been examining everything with his magical divination spells. "I'd suggest staying far, far away from that if you can. I wonder what it does?"

"Right, avoiding that like the plague," Ron said loudly, Ginny and Neville nodding very firm agreement while pulling Harry and Luna away from the voices they were hearing.

Then, finally, they came to a room with many, many globes on shelves. "This has got your name on," said Ron while they were looking around. Harry moved a little closer. Ron was pointing at one of the small glass spheres that glowed with a dull inner light, though it was very dusty and appeared not to have been touched for many years.

"My name?" said Harry quietly.

He stepped forwards. Not as tall as Ron, he had to crane his neck to read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter

Harry took a hold of the sphere that was slightly warm to his touch.

"Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me," a cultured voice said from behind them. Lucius Malfoy slipped from beneath his disillusionment. Death Eaters had the children trapped in the middle of the row.

"Malfoy!" Harry snarled, worried at how easily they would have been trapped had they not known of this ahead of time.

"Give him the prophecy, boy. Then we will be off to the Dark Lord with you. He's expecting you shortly!" Bellatrix Lestrange said, then laughed coldly.

"My, they are rather talkative, aren't they?" Orel noted. "You'd think we'd fallen perfectly into their trap." All of the DA members grinned suddenly at that.

The Death Eaters suddenly looked at each other in confusion, their smiles slipping. Malfoy finally spoke, "What do you mean?"

"He means that you've fallen into _our_ trap," Sirius's voice said from the side of the Death Eaters, causing them to whirl to face the empty air.

"Now!" yelled Harry. All of the students sent out a swarm of red beams, even as the Order of the Phoenix appeared as they sent their own stunners.

The Death Eaters reacted instantly, either shielding or dodging the spells. They were suddenly grim as they realized that their trap had been turned around on them.

Orel launched a bolt of lightning that hit Bellatrix and Lucius, sending them staggering and blowing a hole in the shelves behind them.

"This way!" Malfoy called out, leading his group away from the Order members.

"Good job, kids! Head on out now! We got this covered," Tonks called out, even as she sent her own cutting hex at a Death Eater that was hastily blocked.

Harry grumbled under his breath, but he really couldn't fault the adults. They all kept their wands out and were just passing the Veil when a purple flash struck Ginny at the front, crumpling her to the ground with a cry of pain. Luna tried to catch her as she fell, mumbling something about this not being too good.

"I believe you have something of mine, Harry Potter," a hissing voice said from the other entrance of the black tiled room. The inhuman features of Voldemort stared down at them from above, cloaked in obsidian black. A wave of his wand entrapped the students in red fire.

"Voldemort!" Harry cried out in surprise.

"Scatter!" Orel shouted. With a twist, he disappeared from the ring of fire. Belatedly, all of the students followed with their own pops of displaced air. Luna had taken Ginny, appearing behind the shroud where Orel had also popped to, trying to stop her bleeding.

Neville shouted out his stunner, which Voldemort negligently deflected towards Orel and Luna, causing them to duck. Harry was moving quickly, low and crouching to the ground as he sent a leg-locker jinx that the Dark Lord sneered at and dispelled with his open hand. "Your friends are braver than most wizards, Potter. But I am known as a Dark Lord for no small reason."

Voldemort sent a spell towards Neville that sent the stout boy stumbling, blood leaking down his left arm, leaving it hanging limply. Neville gamely sent another stunner, but his accuracy and power were lacking after being hurt.

Hermione and Ron sent a pair of spell that Voldemort stopped with a wave of blue sparkles and a laugh. "Jinxes again? Pathetic. You truly are children." Silently he sent another spell, this time targeting Ron who started to choke, his face turning red.

"Ron!" Hermione and Harry screamed.

That was when Orel came out from behind the Veil, moving to cover them as they ran to Ron's aid. With a flick of his wand, four duplicates appeared in a whirl, leaving five Dalelanders walking forward while pointing their wands at Voldemort.

"Now that is interesting," Voldemort said, curiosity in his voice. He waved his wand, shattering the four illusions and staggering the real Orel with a wave of pure force.

"Damn it." But he had finally gotten close enough. He raised his wand. With a shout, a black spark jumped from his wand and hit Voldemort instantly, crumpling him to the ground.

With a shake of his head, the Dark Lord stood back up, none the worse for wear. "What was that spell, boy?" he snarled.

Orel looked shocked. "How-? That spell should have killed you... or at least _hurt_ you!"

Voldemort's next spell was a wash of green light, headed straight for the foreigner. He was too shocked to dodge, so when Hermione attempted to tackle him, they landed in a heap.

"Hermione!" Harry screamed hoarsely as he collapsed next to her, shaking her shoulder. "No-no-no-no-no-" he started to mumble, even as Voldemort started chuckling.

Orel blinked as he took in the lifeless eyes of one of the few people that treated him like a _person._ Energy crackled within him and down his arm, lighting up his wand. Pure willpower rumbled through the air as the Faerunian wizard attempted to cast his latest spell that he had researched. _"I wish for Hermione Granger to be revivified from the dead," _he said carefully while touching the wand to her sternum.(3)

_GONG._

_GONG-GONG._

**GONG-GONG-GONG!**

And with a thunderous crack, a bright, ghostly spirit streamed from the veiled archway, slamming into her with a gasping wheeze of breath even as Orel collapsed from the strain of the life-draining spell.

Hermione Granger breathed again.

Everyone in the room just stared. Voldemort was the first one to react, disarming Harry and Orel in an instant. "You have the secret of life over death!" he shouted, even as he summoned the Dalelander. "I will pluck your secrets from your shattered mind, from your bleeding carcass! Death will never hold sway over me!"

He pushed Orel along, the young teen barely conscious as they passed the rooms within the Department of Mysteries. Soon they were riding the elevator up to atrium, Voldemort pulling him by his arm for just a moment.

Then he took in the arguing forms in front of him. It was a small crowed of Ministry officials, with Dumbledore in the middle.

"Dumbledore! You will not be able to escape this! Breaking into the Ministry itself! Whatever allies you had on the Wizenmengot will be through with you-?" Cornelius Fudge finally stopped ranting to turn around, his face blanching at the scowling visage of the Dark Lord Voldemort that he had been denying existed for almost a year standing a mere forty feet away.

Said Dark Lord just shook his head. This would set back his plans, but with this stranger's magic, time would never be of the essence again. Dare he try to apparate out with his unwilling prisoner? That could be fatal to the passenger.

"Voldemort! Release that boy!" Albus Dumbledore ordered, looking every inch the powerful wizard that shook the annals of modern wizarding history.

That was when the next elevator dinged, releasing Harry, Luna and a bleeding Neville half-carrying Hermione, Ginny and Ron. They spotted Voldemort and jerked back, three wands at the ready.

Orel wiggled his fingers to cast a spell. _"Solus dargur!"_ he cried out, unleashing five shards of pure force into Voldemort's side, then twisting free of the surprised dark lord. He dove clumsily behind a pillar.

Voldemort snarled, but twisted in a swirl of robes, apparating away.

"That was Voldemort! But Lucius said that you were just making up that rubbish!" Fudge exclaimed. "But-but-but-"

Dumbledore was still scanning the room, searching for his one-time student.

That was when Harry gasped, his wand hand going to his forehead. At his gasp, Hermione looked up weakly in worry. "Harry? Are you all right?"

He smiled through his pain. And suddenly his pain faded away. "I'm all right now."

"As scary Dark Lords of Evil go, he was the real deal," Orel noted from behind the pillar where he had a hand jammed in a pocket. "Is he really gone?" he asked while looking around.

"Dumbledore! I demand an explanation!" Fudge shouted out.

"And you will have it, but at this point, I need to return these students to Hogwarts and the care of Madam Pomfrey," the headmaster said. "I will talk with you in two hours in my office. Good day." He pulled out a pouch of lemon drops from his pocket and enchanted it. "Take a hold, everyone. This portkey will return you to Hogwarts."

-

Orel sighed as he stared at the ceiling. Nope, it had not changed. It had been hours since they'd arrived. Harry and Luna had not been hurt, but the Boy-That-Lived had been whisked away by Dumbledore for a private meeting while Luna had been sent back to her dorms.

So that left everyone else to get patched up as best as possible by Madam Pomfrey. Though she had not been happy to learn of the curses and situation that had landed them in her care.

That was when Dumbledore finally returned. "Orel Maresk, you have unlocked a very dangerous door."

He blinked. "Oh. Yes, I guess you don't have magic to raise the dead back to life. I figured that when Voldemort tried to kidnap me for my knowledge."

"This magic was thought impossible or lost in ancient times. How does this magic work?" Dumbledore was showing himself to be quite worried, thinking hard on the situation.

"What makes you think I would just give up my most powerful secrets for nothing?" Orel responded slowly as he thought this over. "It's customary in my lands for wizards to trade spells that they feel are too powerful to be given freely or just sold."

"What spells do you think I would have that I would offer to trade in exchange?" the old man asked with a raised, bushy-white eyebrow.

"How about the 13th use of dragon's blood for making a Sorceror's Stone?" Orel asked with a grin.

Dumbledore tried to hide his surprise, but failed to totally smother it. "That sounds interesting. What makes you think I know of another use?"

"Let's see; you are friends with Flamel who is the only known owner and creator of the Sorceror's Stone; it is created through alchemy; you personally 'discovered' the twelve uses of dragon blood _with_ Flamel... at the same time discrediting other potion masters' work on dragons blood. Which incidentally keeps people from figuring out that it could be part of the sorceror's stone. But that's only from reading several historical texts and modern works on that. Shall I continue?" Orel was staring at the headmaster carefully.

"That is an interesting supposition," the old wizard replied blandly.

The student pulled out a small vial with a tiny fleck of red crystal within it. "Yes, it is."

"Amazing. I had not thought anyone would figure that out. I will have to talk to Flamel, as it is his secret to give out," Dumbledore said. "Good day, Mr. Maresk." He then exited the infirmary.

Then a voice came from the air. It was Harry as he stepped around the curtain where Hermione was sleeping, turning visible. "I don't have any arcane secrets, Orel. So I don't have anything to trade."

"You really like that invisibility charm, don't you? What makes you think I would require trade between our group?" the fatigued wizard said from his bed.

"I was hoping... You could bring back my parents?" Harry asked, hope catching in his voice.

"Harry, please understand... raising the dead that have been so long murdered is possible, but would require someone far more powerful than I. It's a matter of time. The best I can do is only days back. The best I will ever be able to do when I have become even more powerful is years. But decades? That will be forever beyond my reach, I'm afraid," Orel replied softly.

Harry faded into existence, his face twisted in anguish. "At least you didn't say it was impossible."

"I really wish I could say I could do it, Harry."

"If only we had a time turner," Hermione said as she turned the corner around the curtain. She looked pale and drawn out. "Then we could go back in time. We couldn't stop them from being killed, but bring them back so we don't create a paradox." She set her hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to share his anguish.

"Umm..." Orel looked uncomfortable. He sheepishly pulled out one of the magical artifacts from his pocket. "I snagged one while Voldemort was attempting to kidnap me, figuring I could try to use it to escape him. I kind of forgot it until this moment."

Harry eyes shown in wonder. "So we can do this? I can really bring my parents back?"

Orel seemed to be thinking hard. "We need more information, Harry. Enough so that we don't cause a paradox. Like where you parents were buried. If there are protections on the graves."

"Why don't you talk to Sirius and Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked. "Once we are out of the hospital wing, we can plan things out better."

Orel looked thoughtful while Harry was looking ecstatically excited.

"Harry... be careful. And don't verify things that _will_ make it a paradox, like checking to make sure their bodies are actually in their graves," his girlfriend said carefully.

"Oh. Right." That dampened Harry's mood a lot.

Just that comment alone creeped them all out.

-

Hermione, Orel and Ron were released from the infirmary shortly that next morning. Ginny and Neville's injuries were more serious. "How many people get to say they faced off against Voldemort and lived to tell the tale?" Ginny said with a grin as they left.

Twelve of the Death Eater's had been captured. Cornelius Fudge's hold on his position was quite precarious after Lucius Malfoy was caught by the Order of the Phoenix in Death Eater robes.

Professor Dumbledore had been returned to Hogwarts while High Inquisitor Umbridge had been sacked in a shameful screeching argument. In a show of solidarity, most of the students stood at the headmaster's back, staring her down.

After that, Harry had talked to Professor Lupin about his parents, finding that they had been buried at Godrics Hollow just a day after they'd been killed. Hermione had been researching that time and the travel method they were planning on using. She and Orel both created a special item to track how many turns of their time turner they had gone and how far back they could go at one time.

Harry and Orel both learned that you could only go back about one month before the device needed recharging for an hour on this particular model. It was actually more powerful and advanced than Hermione's original time turner from her 3rd year. After procuring some food supplies and necessary items at great expense, they were ready.

The left Ron and the others to cover for them and set out the day before they had to return 'home' for the holidays (excepting Orel, of course.) They slipped out into the Forbidden Forest, away from the centaurs and other denizens of the forest. Hermione attached the time turner to the contraption that would count out 720 rotations and then talk for an hour or so as they walked through the forest. They would be pushing it to carry five people back into the future they thought.

They traded stories around a while, as they had days of time travel. They grew to hate the little ding of the timer as the counter moved forward, though Harry grew to be able to sleep right through it as they all sat back to back. Subjectively, they spent over a week traveling into the past. Harry and Hermione told stories about growing up in the Muggle world, while Orel told tales of his growing up in the Dalelands. They traded stories of their adventures, then discussed what they wanted to do in the future. Finally, they even just discussed spells.

"Orel, could we learn that spell?" Hermione asked after eight hours. Harry was yawning, but suddenly was wide awake.

"The one I used to bring you back?" He seemed to think aloud. "It's a powerful, universal spell. Neither charm, nor transfiguration nor enchantment. It has no real effect of its own, but allows you to mimic other magics, even ones that are normally under the purview of other domains. It's a bit limited, but very powerful in its own way. It is also terribly draining and can weaken your life force," Orel explained. He reached into his backpack where he had kept his supplies of travel food ready. "I'm hoping that eventually I will be able to use it or it's more powerful version to cure me of my curse." He pulled out a sheath of papers.

"Oh! These are the runes and equations that you've been working on all year," Hermione said in delight as she summoned some fairy lights. She frowned as she read through the papers.

Harry mused to himself in deep though. Maybe he really should have taken those classes instead of Divination. "I guess I can't learn it then," he said sadly.

"I'm not really looking forward to casting it very often all by myself," Orel finally said as he looked into the forest night.

The glowing lights bobbled around Hermione. She looked up at Harry. "I think you could cast this, Harry. You don't really need to know the underlying research theory."

"Really?" He brightened up at that thought.

"You do need to know some particulars about what you are trying to mimic. How about a deal? You promise to use the spell to bring me back if my curse kills me?" He had turned away from them. "Maybe... just maybe, if I die the curse will be satisfied."

"Orel, who cursed you so terribly?" Harry finally asked.

"It was not someone. It was a terrible sign at my birth, a dark omen burned in magical fire in the snow around the hut I was born in. They said I was cursed by magic itself. And I can't say they are wrong," he finally replied, his voice harsh with anger.

He finished teaching them the spell, but he would not talk about his curse any more.

-

Harry stood looking at his parent's gravestones just a week after Voldemort had killed them. The single Auror on duty was busy drinking, celebrating the fall of the Dark Lord. He was quite loud in the fact that in his jubilation that he would actually live to see the end of the year. After he finally nodded off, Harry lightly stunned him to leave him unconscious. The wards to block them being detected had been inscribed on rocks in the area by Hermione hours ago.

"I hope they don't mind this," Harry said softly. He and Hermione quickly unearthed the pair of coffins. Harry stared at the lifeless bodies.

"Harry, why don't you cast the spell on your father, while I cast it on your mother?" Hermione said. Harry handed her the ritual items needed as a sacrifice.

Orel was watching them and the area, just in case someone was alerted to their presence. With a dual flash of light, James and Lily Potter opened their eyes as gigantic diamonds disappeared in sparkles.

"Who are you?" James said harshly, pushing the stranger off of him with reactions born of living in a war.

"James? What's going on?" Lilly called out.

Orel's slapping of his forehead was loud in the sudden silence. "Damnation. Of course they would be confused. They've just been murdered by a Dark Lord."

Even weakened and pale, that comment drained the blood from the parent's faces. Lily stood up, screaming out, "Harry!"

"Um, right here, mum," Harry said as he stood up, brushing the leaves from his robes. He had to smile at that. Mum! He liked that sound greatly.

That caused both parents to give him an odd look.

"You are a little old to be my baby!" she retorted through her weakness.

Harry sent a helpless look over to Hermione, though it was the other boy that responded.

"Short version: You died, Harry was raised by his aunt, we figured out a way to bring you back to life but it required traveling back in time, here we are," Orel said firmly. "Now, I'd really like to depart before he cause a paradox and cease to exist."

James and Lily shared a startled expression even as Harry and Hermione helped them out. In moments, they had the graves set back to the way they were. Then they disappeared with a pop of apparation, leaving none the wiser for their nights deeds.

After an hour, deep in the Forbidden Forest, all five of them put the chain on and tried to go back into the future, discovering an oddity of time turners... they only allow travel into the past. They could not figure out how to turn the hour glass 'backwards.'

"Damn it," Harry spit out. "We bollixed this up good."

Orel was thinking about things frantically. He couldn't be stuck like this. He did _not_ have that much time.

Lily and James shared a worried look. "We are going to cause a paradox, aren't we?" James said.

Hermione shook her head. "No. Actually, traveling into the future is quite easy. What we really need is a way to stop time."

"We might be able to do that," Harry's mother said thoughtfully. "You've tried turning it on its one axis, but you haven't tried turning it sideways. But how to control how long we are stopped?"

"How about just slowing time drastically?" Orel asked.

They ended up testing it and did discover that turning the time turner sideways would slow or freeze time. With one person outside the necklace, they tested it and figured out how it would work. Though Hermione did have to unfreeze them twice while testing.

Hermione, Orel and Lily all thought long and hard over a charm to unfreeze them. Finally, the cast some spells to create a little stick man that would be aware of how much time was passing outside of their cave and in the right day, unfreeze them. They then sealed themselves up in a cave with a one-way window, notice-me-not charms and moved carefully into the future. The stick man would unfreeze them each year.

Soon it was the day before they were to leave to travel into the past originally. They decided to just wait out, chatting a little bit.

-

Harry was sitting with all of his friends on the Hogwart's express on the way to London, laughing merrily. The only two people that weren't taking part directly in the conversation were Hermione, Luna and Orel who all had their noses in various publications.

"Potter! Because of you, my father is in Azkaban!" Draco Malfoy shouted as he ripped the door open. He stopped when he found himself facing numerous wands before he could blink.

After about three minutes of jinxes, he and his bodyguards were left a seething, jelly of curses and hexes, leaving Harry to just shake his head in shock. "Um, good work?!" Harry said sheepishly.

"I think that's a rousing endorsement for your training, Harry," Hermione said. She rewarded him with a kiss on his cheek that brought a flash of jealousy and then resignation from Ginny.

The train pulled in to the station and all of the students started unloading. Harry had a half-grin when he saw his 'family' here to pick him up. His aunt and uncle looked as upset as always, while Dudley was busy being worried about being hexed or jinxed.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon. Dudley," Harry said politely while he held Hermione's hand.

"Damn freak. Right then. We'll just be on our way," Vernon said, looking suspiciously at Hermione.

"Well, there's been a small snag..." Harry started to say.

Suddenly, from the side, a loud voice started shouting, "Petunia Evans Dursley! Mother would be so very ashamed of your attitude!" Lily Evans Potter was glaring at her sister from only twenty feet away.

Moody suddenly moved right beside Harry, shouting, "Imposters! Protect Potter!"

"WAIT!" Harry screamed, snagging the ex-Auror's arm before he could fling a hex. "I just got them back!"

"Say what, Potter?" he replied, his artificial eye spinning around.

"I said, I just got them back, so don't you dare hex them." Harry was glaring at the paranoid member of the Order.

"Harry, they were killed. You can't bring them back," Remus said, his voice quite stiff and formal.

Hermione spoke up, "No, we were not able to bring them back _before_. Now we can." She was giving them all a hard look.

The Order members snapped an incredulous look at her. After all, this was Hermione. She wasn't prone to flights of fancy.

"You can check with Dumbledore if you want. Though he's probably not _exactly_ happy with this situation, he'll understand," Harry said.

Petunia was just starting to recover a bit, her face filled with shock as she took in her dead sister and her husband. "Lily?" she moaned.

"Hello, Pet! I was hoping to ask if James and I could use your spare bedroom for a bit. Just until we can get our affairs put into order." Lily had a soft smile, but a hard glint in her green eyes.

"Now see here! We don't want any more freaks living in our house!" Vernon's face was turning purple.

His wife stepped on his toe very hard. "Sure," she squeaked out. "At least for a while."

Hermione gave Harry a hug and a chaste kiss on his cheek. Ron and Orel waved as Harry and all of his family headed out.

"So, Orel, what are you going to do during your summer?" the red-head asked curiously.

Shaking his head, as the boy had brought him out of a lovely daydream where he had challenged and then humiliated Umbridge at this station, Orel replied, "Oh, my funds are starting to run a bit low, so I'm going prospecting a bit. I did a bit of research on ancient, lost ruins and such. There are supposed to be loads of those in Eastern Europe and Africa. Hopefully I'll be able to afford school again in the fall." Orel seemed to be thinking things through. "I'll be writing Professor Dumbledore a lot."

"Sounds more like work," Ron noted with a grin.

"I've been taking care of myself for years." He shrugged as if to say it was no big thing.

Hermione shook her head. "You really shouldn't have. Both you and Harry with your too hard lives," she said sadly.

The Dalelander stiffened at that. "Well, I'm off." He lifted the hood of his cloak of invisibility, disappearing.

-

_The end?_

-

_(1) Yes, I know that D&D 3.5 d20 only has Fox's Cunning at 1 minute/level. IIRC, D&D 3.0 d20 had it at 1 hour/level. I'm picking the median point between them; 10 minutes/level which is useful enough in a non-combat setting without the 'why don't you just cast that when you wake up?' problem._

_(2) Just protection from evil folks. I never understood why people never made rings or amulets of this spell. It's amazingly powerful for such a low level ability._

_(3) This is just Limited Wish duplicating the Clerical spell Revivify. He's more than smart enough to know of the spell and as it is 5th level, quite within its ability to duplicate._


End file.
